GERMANY  AND  ITS  EVOLUTION 
IN  MODERN  TIMES 


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GERMANY  AND  ITS  EVOLUTION 
IN  MODERN  TIMES 


BY 


HENRI   LIGHTENBERGER 

Mattre  de  Conferences  d  la  Sorbonne 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  BY 

A.   M.   LUDOVIGI 


NEW   YORK 

HENRY    HOLT    AND    COMPANY 

1913 


&# 


PRINTED  BY 

HAZELL,  WATSON  AND  VINET,   LD., 

LONDON  AND  AYLESBURY, 

ENGLAND. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 

Religious  and  scientific  mental  outlook — The  development  of 
rationalism — Modern  antagonism  between  religion  and  science 
— Repugnance  of  Germany  to  radical  solutions       .       xiii-xxv 


BOOK   I 
ECONOMIC  EVOLUTION 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    DEVELOPMENT    OF    THE    SYSTEM    OF 
CAPITALISTIC    ENTERPRISE 

Beginnings  of  the  capitalistic  system  in  Germany — The  ideal  of 
sustenance — Development  of  free  enterprise — Economic  emanci- 
pation of  Prussia  after  Jena        ....        pp.  3-7 

Stages  in  the  development  of  capitalism — Germany  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  century — Period  between  1800  and  1848 — 
Economic  stride  after  18-48 — Speculative  madness  after  1870 
— The  triumphs  of  German  industry  at  the  end  of  the 
century       ........       pp.  7-17 

CHAPTER    II 

THE  EFFECTS  OF  THE  SYSTEM  OF  ENTERPRISE 
UPON  THE  OLD  FORMS  OF  INDUSTRY 

I.  Domestic  industry — Disappearance    of    domestic    work    among 

the  peasantry — The  domestic  industry  of  the  country  districts 

— The  great  domestic  industries  of  the  towns       .    pp.  18-22 

II.  The  trades — Their  ancient  organisation — Gradual  dissolution  of 


vi  CONTENTS 

the  guild  system — The  craftsman's  work  menaced  by  the  com- 
petition of  great  industries — Economic  and  social  decadence  of 
the  artisan  class  ......    pp.  22-27 

CHAPTER    III 

THE    EFFECT    OF    CAPITALISTIC    ENTERPRISE 
UPON    AGRICULTURE 

Agrarian  evolution — Increase  of  production  during  the  century — 
The  law  of  the  concentration  of  capital  not  applicable  to 
agriculture — Substitution  of  private  exploitation  for  collec- 
tive exploitation — Liquidation  of  feudal  property — Its  results 
for  the  large  landowners  and  for  the  peasantry — Evolution 
of   customs  in   the  rural  class      ....     pp.  28-36 

The  Agrarian  crisis — Its  causes  :  competition  of  new  countries, 
the  debt  on  landed  property — Its  effects  on  the  nobility  and 
the  peasantry — Diminution  of  the  importance  of  agriculture 
in  the  life  of  the  nation       .....     pp.  36-47 

CHAPTER    IV 

SOCIAL   EVOLUTION 

Social  effects  of  the  system  of  enterprise — The  old  classes  :  the 
nobility,  the  middle  class,  the  people — The  modern  classes  : 
the  aristocracy  of  enterprise  and  the  army  of  labour — Forma- 
tion and  evolution  of  the  proletariat  in  Germany     pp.  48-57 

General  results  of  the  economic  evolution — The  good  and  evil  of 
the  system  of  enterprise — Signs  of  a  reaction  against  the 
system  of  unrestricted  competition        .  .  .     pp.  57-61 


BOOK   II 
POLITICAL   EVOLUTION 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    PROBLEM    OF    GERMAN    LIBERTY    AND 

UNITY 

I.  Weakness  of  Germany  at  the  beginning  of  the  century — Absence 

of  unity  and  liberal  institutions  .  .  .     pp.  65-72 

II .  Austria — Metternich's    policy   of    stability — Austria  hostile   to 

the  movement  toward  unity  and  Liberalism  .     pp.  72-76 


CONTENTS  vii 

III.  Prussia — Prussian  power — Sympathy  of  Prussia  with  the  desire 
for  unity — The  Prussian  monarchy  and  Liberal  aspirations : 
its  evolution  towards  a  constitutional  system — Reforms  of  Stein 
and  Hardenberg — The  divided  state  of  Germany    .    pp.  76-85 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   IDEALISTIC    STRUGGLE   FOR   LIBERTY 
AND    UNITY 

I.  The  beginnings  of  Liberalism — Its  original  idealistic  character — 
The  "  organic  "  evolution  of  political  institutions  in  Prussia — 
The   "  inorganic  "  character  of  the  political  evolution  of  the 
southern  states  of  Germany  ....  pp.  86-101 

II.  The  evolution  of  Liberalism — Nationalistic  tendencies — Radical 
tendencies  ......  pp.  101-104 

III.  The  Revolution  of  1848-49 — Its  explosion  in  Germany — The 
Parliament  of  Frankfort — Its  impotence  against  the  German 
princes — The  futility  of  its  efforts  to  realise  German  unity — 
The  reasons  for  this  failure  ....  pp.  105-113 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   FOUNDATION    OF   GERMAN   UNITY 

I.  The  new  turn  of  mind — The  development  of  the  realistic  and 
positive  spirit — Bismarck  the  typical  representative  of  the 
realistic  era  :  his  will  to  power  ;  his  intellectual  lucidity  ;  his 
nervous  sensitiveness  .....  pp.  114-120 

II.  The  realisation  of  German  unity — The  conquest  of  Germany 
by  Prussia — The  Zollverein — Failure  of  the  Union— The 
reaction  in  Germany  and  in  Prussia — The  restoration  of 
Prussian  power — The  struggle  for  supremacy  with  Austria  : 
Sadowa — The  war  of  1870:  its  causes;  responsibility  for  it 
of  France  and  Germany  respectively — The  restoration  of  the 
German  Empire  .....  pp.  120-137 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    GERMAN    EMPIRE    AND    HER 
FOREIGN   POLICY 

I.  European    policy     of     Germany — Its    pacific     tendencies — The 
necessity  for  developing  the  power  of  Germany — France  and 


viii  CONTENTS 

Germany  after  1870 — The  German  army — Germany's  alliances 
— Armed  peace  ......  pp.  138-148 

II.  Universal  policy — "  Greater  Germany  " — Germans  outside  Ger- 
many— German  interests  abroad — Constitution  of  a  colonial 
empire pp.  149-157 

III.  German  imperialism — Nationalism  and  imperialism — The  con- 
flicting interests  of  agriculture  and  industry  in  Germany — 
The  Government  as  arbitrator     .  .  .  pp.  157-165 

CHAPTER    V 

THE    GERMAN   EMPIRE    AND    HER 
HOME    POLICY 

I.  The  internal  life  of  Germany — Increasingly  realistic  conception 
of  the  idea  of  party :  conflict  of  principles  changed  to  conflict 
of  classes  and  interests         ....  pp.  166-169 

II.  The  Socialist  Party — Utopian  Socialism — Evolution  towards 
an  increasingly  practical  activity — Revolutionaries  and  re- 
formers— Syndicalism  ....  pp.  169-175 

III.  The  Liberal  Party — Its  idealistic  beginnings — It  becomes  the 
middle-class  party — Evolution  of  the  National  Liberal  Party  :  it 
becomes  the  political  organ  of  the  great  industries  pp.  175-179 

IV.  The  Conservative  Party — Its  belief  in  authority  and  its  par- 
ticularism— Positive  ambitions  of  the  Conservatives — Their 
reconciliation  with  Bismarck — They  constitute  themselves  the 
defenders  of  agricultural  interests :  the  Bund  der  Land- 
wirte pp.  179-184 

V.  The  Catholic  Centre  Party.  ...  pp.  184-185 

VI.  General   results    of    the    evolution    of   parties — Decadence   of 

parliamentary  life — Disappearance  of   all   political  idealism — 

The  parties  and  the  Emperor      .  .  .  pp.  186-190 

CHAPTER    VI 

MODERN    POLITICAL   IDEALISM 

I.  Education  policy — Gradual  secularisation  of  public  instruction — 
Nevertheless,  the  Church  keeps  some  influence  over  teaching — 
Increasingly    realistic    and    democratic    character    of    modern 
teaching     .......  pp.  191-199 

II.  Social  policy — Social  associations  and  protection  of  workmen 
— Intervention  of  the  German  State  in  the  social  question — 
Social  policy  of  Bismarck :  the  social  insurance  laws — Acces- 
sion of  William  II :  era  of  reforms  and  subsequently  of 
reaction — Renewal  of  social  idealism  in  the  Germany  of 
to-day         .......  pp.  199-210 


CONTENTS  ix 


BOOK   III 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  RELIGIOUS  AND 
PHILOSOPHICAL   THOUGHT 

CHAPTER    I 

THE  RENAISSANCE  OF  CATHOLICISM  IN  GERMANY  AT 
THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

I.  The  development  of  scientific  rationalism  transforms  the  "  re- 
ligion "  of  the  modern  man  .  .  .  pp.  213-214 
IT.  The  decline  and  revival  of  Roman  Catholicism  at  the  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  century — Reformed  Catholicism — Apparent 
decline  of  Roman  Catholicism — Reaction  towards  positive  forms 
in  religion — The  alliance  between  the  Throne  and  the  Altar 
against  the  Revolution — The  struggle  for  Catholic  "liberty" 
— The  decline  of  reformed  Catholicism — The  romanticist  move- 
ment favours  the  progress  of  Catholicism  among  the  elite — 
Progress  of  Catholicism  in  the  lowest  layers  of  the  nation  ; 
the  Catholic  associations      ....  pp.  214-236 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    PROGRESS    OF   CATHOLICISM    DURING   THE 
NINETEENTH    CENTURY 

I.  The  triumph  of  Roman  Catholicism  over  reformed  Catholicism 
— Hermesianism — The    "  German   Catholic  "   movement — The 

"  Old  Catholics  " pp.  237-240 

II.  Conflicts  between  the  Church  and  the  State — The  gradual 
emancipation  of  Catholicism  during  the  first  sixty-five  years 
of  the  nineteenth  century — The  conflict  between  the  power 
of  the  Pope  and  the  new  German  Empire — The  Kulturkampf 
— The  reconciliation  between  the  Centre  and  the  Government — 
The  Centre  as  a  government  party — William  II.  and  Catho- 
licism— "  Political  "  and  "  idealistic  "  Catholicism    pp.  240-250 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    III 

THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT 

I.  Fundamental  tendencies  of  Protestantism — Catholic  "  semi- 
rationalism  "  and  Protestant  "  irrationalism  " — Protestantism 
proclaims  the  independence  of  reason  and  faith — It  tends  to 
conciliate  science  and  religion — Definition  of  the  domains  of 
religion,  metaphysics,  and  morality         .  .  pp.  251-258 

II.  Protestant  mysticism — The  mystic  element  in  the  religion  of 
Luther — Pietism  :  its  fundamental  characteristics — Its  evolu- 
tion in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries — The 
awakening — Modern  and  contemporary  pietism     pp.  259-26S 

III.  Protestant  subjectivism — Gradual  crumbling  away  of  dogma  ; 
radical  subjectivism  of  Schleiermacher — Gradual  elimination 
of  the  historical  elements  from  Christianity ;  the  rationalism  of 
the  eighteenth  century — the  mythical  interpretation  of  the  Bible 
stories — Religion  stripped  of  its  absolute  character    pp.  268-279 

IV.  Attempts  to  reconcile  science  and  religion — The  rationalism 
of  the  eighteenth  century — The  idealism  of  the  nineteenth 
century — Kantianism ;  modern  evolution  of  idealis  tic  philo- 
sophy— Contemporary  Protestant  idealism     .  pp.  279-290 

CHAPTER    IV 

THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH 

I.  Protestant  orthodoxy — Restoration  of  the  idea  of  orthodoxy — 
Orthodoxy  and  pietism  in  the  nineteenth  century — Conflict 
between  the  "positive"  tendency  and  the  "negative"  ten- 
dency   pp.  291-297 

II.  The  Protestant  Church — The  idea  of  a  Church  in  the  Middle 
Ages — Protestantism  replaces  the  institution  of  an  ecclesi- 
astical hierarchy  by  the  notion  of  universal  priesthood — The 
Protestant  Church  under  the  rule  of  the  State — Necessary 
rupture  between  Church  and  State — The  official  Church  and 
the  Free  Churches — Divorce  between  the  official  Church 
and  the  Protestant  spirit — Antagonism  between  Protestant 
subjectivism  and  the  idea  of  a  Church     .  .  pp.  297-312 

CHAPTER    V 

FREE   THOUGHT 

I.  Materialism — Its  diffusion  in  the  nineteenth  century — The 
causes  of  its  progress — The  real  discredit  of  materialism  among 
the  cultured  minority  ....  pp.  313-323 


CONTENTS  xi 

II.  Positivism— It  springs  up  in  opposition  to  metaphysical  dog- 
matism— Its  diffusion  in  the  nineteenth  century      pp.  323-328 

III.  Pessimism — Formation  of  the  doctrine  of  pessimism — Its 
diffusion  in  the  second  half  of  the  century — Reaction  against 
pessimism  ......  pp.  328-334 

IV.  Naturalism — The  Nihilism  of  Nietzsche — The  transvaluation 
of  all  values  and  Dionysianism — Nietzsche  is  one  of  the 
typical  representatives  of  the  modern  mind  pp.  334-342 

V.  Contemporary  tendencies — The  hatred  encountered  by  Nietz- 
schean  Radicalism  in  Germany — Contemporary  aspirations  to 
a  new  classicism;    the  "return  to  Goethe"  .  pp.  342-347 


BOOK   IV 
EVOLUTION  IN  ART 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    VALUE    OF   ART 

I.  The  cult  of  art — Classic  conception  of  art ;  the  neo-Hellenism 
of  Goethe — The  glorification  of  art  among  the  romanticists — - 
Diffusion  of  the  cult  of  art  in  the  nineteenth  century  pp.  351-362 

II.  Reaction  against  the  cult  of  art — Art  and  culture  considered  as 

the  products  of  industry — Progress  of  utilitarian  realism — Art 
subordinated  to  science — Art  in  the  service  of  life — Democratic 
art — The  desire  of  the  people  for  art     .  .  pp.  362-378 

CHAPTER    II 

ROMANTICISM,    REALISM,    AND    IMPRESSIONISM 

I.  Romanticism — At  first  a  continuation  of  classicism — Its  charac- 
teristics: Subjectivism — Lyricism — Evolution  of  romanticism 
towards  a  national  and  popular  art      .  .  pp.  379-392 

II.  Realism — Dissolution  of  romanticism — Diffusion  of  realistic 
tendencies pp.  392-396 

III.  Impressionism — Gradual  refinement  of  nervous  sensitiveness 
in  the  nineteenth  century — Development  of  impressionism  in 
music — Impressionism  in  painting  and  poetry — Impressionism 
and  "  decadence  ".....  pp.  397-406 


xii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    III 

SYNTHETIC    ART 

I.  The  synthetic  work  of  art  in  the  domain  of  poetry  and  music — 
Correspondence  of  sensations — Wagner's  musical  drama — 
Criticism  of  Wagnerism        .  .  .  .  pp.  407-414 

II.  The  synthetic  work  of  art  in  the  domain  of  the  plastic  arts — 
Search  for  a  new  style — Period  of  imitating  the  old  styles 
— The  tendencies  of  contemporary  art  industries    pp.  414-419 

CONCLUSION 

Will  to  power  and  solidarity — The  development  of  German  power 
— The  instinct  for  order  and  discipline — Change  from  a  com- 
bative to  a  solidaristic  idea  of  life  .  .  .  pp.  420-430 

Index pp.  431-440 


INTRODUCTION 

The  great  fact  which  strikes  us  when  we  compare 
the  present  day  with  the  ages  that  have  preceded  it 
is  the  enormous  growth  in  human  power  which  took 
place  during  the  course  of  the  last  century.  It  is 
possible  to  have  some  doubts  about  the  "  progress  " 
of  humanity,  in  the  sense  that  it  is  very  far  from 
certain  that  the  man  of  to-day  is  happier,  wiser,  or 
even  in  a  safer  position  than  he  was  formerly.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  the  sum- 
total  of  human  power  in  the  face  of  nature  has 
increased  enormously.  The  conquest  and  subjuga- 
tion of  elemental  forces  by  the  intelligence  of  man 
made  a  tremendous  stride  during  the  nineteenth 
century.  Man  no  longer  regards  the  Universe  in 
the  same  way  or  with  the  same  feelings  as  he  once 
did.  Even  his  mental  outlook  has  been  profoundly 
modified,  and,  to  use  an  expression  which  is  con- 
tinually recurring  in  the  works  of  German  critics, 
it  has  developed  in  the  direction  of  "  subjectivity." 
The  Middle  Ages  were  filled  above  all  with  a  deep 
sense  of  our  helplessness  in  the  face  of  forces  far  more 
powerful  than  ourselves.  If  we  examine  the  state 
of  mind  which  prevailed,  even  towards  the  beginning 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  we  find  that  the  most  funda- 
mental difference  between  ourselves  and  the  men  of 
that  period  was  the  fact  that  they  had  no  conception 

xiii 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

of  causality.  We  live  under  the  firm  conviction 
that  every  circumstance,  without  exception,  can  be 
explained  as  the  effect  of  one  or  more  causes.  We  ad- 
mit the  existence  of  an  inexorable  bond  of  causation 
between  all  phenomena — a  rule  which  admits  of  no 
exceptions  ;  and  we  force  ourselves  throughout  the 
whole  range  of  our  experience  to  grasp  clearly  the 
chain  of  cause  and  effect.  Even  when  we  cannot 
find  this  relation,  we  are  convinced  that  it  exists 
and  that  greater  scientific  knowledge  would  enable 
us  to  discover  it.  It  is  this  fundamental  conviction 
which  was  above  all  lacking  in  the  man  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  His  knowledge  of  the  outside  world  was  still 
very  limited  in  range,  and,  unlike  his  modern  brother, 
he  had  not  got  at  his  disposal  an  enormous  number 
of  systematised  experiences,  which  had  been  classi- 
fied and  organised.  His  intelligence  in  the  presence 
of  every  fact  and  event  did  not  imperatively  demand 
a  causal  explanation.  In  order  to  get  his  bearings 
and  to  find  his  wav  in  the  midst  of  the  chaos  of 

Mi 

phenomena,  he  was  content  at  every  turn  to  reason 
by  analogies  which  were  more  or  less  haphazard  and 
superficial,  and  not  to  pursue  a  course  of  rigorous 
induction.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  in 
addition  to  a  very  restricted  group  of  phenomena, 
in  which  experience  had  taught  him  to  trace  a 
certain  regularity,  he  gladly  postulated  the  existence 
in  our  very  midst  of  a  far  vaster  realm  of  miracles, 
which  was  independent  of  natural  laws,  and  which, 
at  any  moment  could  break  the  normal  chain  of 
events.  Nor  is  it  surprising,  either,  that,  in  the 
absence  of  firmly  established  positive  science,  and 
by  reason  of  the  insignificant  sum  of  experience  that 
can  be  acquired  by  a  single  individual,  the  tradi- 
tional wisdom  bequeathed  from  the  past  should  have 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

exercised  powerful  authority  over  him.  Indeed,  there 
is  nothing  astonishing  in  the  fact  that  a  religion 
founded  on  a  belief  in  miracles  and  based  on  the 
authority  of  long  tradition  should  have  dominated 
the  spirits  and  imposed  itself  with  irresistible  force 
upon  men's  intelligence  as  well  as  their  will. 

How  different  is  the  mental  attitude  of  the  modern 
man! 

Whilst  the  intellect  of  the  Middle  Ages  bowed 
willingly  before  the  authority  of  tradition,  and  saw 
miracles  in  everything,  and  the  hidden,  arbitrary, 
mysterious  influence  of  superior  powers  in  the  world 
of  phenomena,  modern  thought  becomes  ever  more 
resolutely  selj-reliani.  The  intellectual  horizon  of 
mankind  spreads  to  vast  distances  ;  the  sum-total 
of  human  experience,  classified  and  docketed,  grows 
greater  every  day.  Science  and  the  scientific  in- 
stinct developed  along  parallel  lines.  Belief  in  the 
absolute  determinism  of  phenomena  has  slowly  taken 
the  place  of  faith  in  the  supernatural  ;  rigorous 
inductive  reasoning  has  supplanted  reasoning  by 
analogy.  At  the  same  time,  there  has  sprung  up, 
chiefly  during  the  last  three  centuries,  a  wider  and 
more  complete  knowledge  of  the  universe  based  upon 
reason  and  experiment.  Through  the  great  dis- 
coveries of  Simon  Stevin,  Galileo,  Newton,  Descartes, 
Leibnitz,  Euler,  d'Alembert,  and  Laplace,  mathe- 
matics and  mechanics  were  placed  upon  a  firm  basis 
during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries. 
Towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
empirical  sciences  in  their  turn  leave  the  stage  of 
blind  groping.  Lavoisier  inaugurated  the  era  of 
modern  chemistry,  Galvani  and  Volta  that  of  elec- 
tricity. And  during  the  nineteenth  century  a  vast 
conception  of  the  mechanistic  unity  of  the  world  was 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

gradually  elaborated.  Human  intelligence  learnt  to 
consider  all  the  physical  forces  of  nature  in  turn — 
mechanical  processes,  heat,  light,  sound,  and  elec- 
tricity— as  so  many  different  expressions  for  one  and 
the  same  fundamental  power  which  manifests  itself  in 
every  natural  phenomenon,  but  remains  unchanged 
in  essence.  It  thus  proved  the  unity  of  the  forces  of 
nature,  and  established  the  fact  that  everywhere 
and  in  every  shape  force  obeys  a  fundamental  cosmic 
law — the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy  and  of 
the  constancy  of  force  and  matter  in  the  universe. 
Pushing  its  conquests  yet  further  afield,  it  attempted 
at  last  to  extend  these  laws  to  organic  nature.  In 
one  of  the  simple,  elementary  substances — carbon — 
it  unveiled  the  marvellous  material  which  determines 
the  formation  of  an  infinite  variety  of  organic  bodies, 
and  which,  consequently,  represents  the  chemical 
basis  of  life  (Haeckel)  ;  it  finds  in  the  simple,  solitary 
cell,  the  elementary  organism  which  by  successive 
combinations  gives  birth  to  all  the  tissues  com- 
posing vegetable  or  animal  organisms.  With  the 
theory  of  evolution,  prophetically  foreshadowed  by 
Goethe  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  and 
scientifically  formulated  in  1859  by  Darwin,  it  ex- 
tended the  mechanistic  theory  to  the  realm  of 
biology  and  proclaimed  that  the  universe  as  a 
whole  was  nothing  more  than  an  eternal  evolution 
of  matter. 

But  reason  did  not  rest  satisfied  with  postulating 
an  explanation  of  the  universe  based  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  causality  ;  it  was  not  content  with  theory 
alone — it  became  practical,  it  acted,  it  created.  In 
proportion  as  it  acquired  a  sounder  knowledge  of  the 
laws  which  govern  phenomena,  it  learnt  to  subdue 
the  forces  of  nature,  to  train  them  and  make  them 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

work  for  its  own  profit.  At  the  same  time  as  it 
founded  science,  it  also  instituted  a  rational  method 
of  dealing  with  technical  processes. 

These,  in  the  old  days,  were  essentially  empirical. 
The  artisan  knew,  through  having  learnt  it  from  his 
predecessors,  how  to  set  about  obtaining  a  given 
result  or  product.  His  master  had  transmitted  to 
him,  through  the  channel  of  practical  work,  the 
knowledge  gained  by  experience  and  the  various 
processes  by  means  of  which  a  certain  article  was 
produced.  And,  in  his  ignorance  of  the  laws  of 
nature,  he  applied  these  formulae  without  knowing, 
as  a  rule,  how  or  why  they  gave  the  desired  results. 
Sometimes  a  lucky  fluke  provided  him  with  a  clue 
to  a  new  process  by  which  he  could  gain  his  end  with 
greater  speed  and  certainty,  and  in  such  a  case  he 
enriched  by  some  new  rule  the  technical  code,  which 
he  bequeathed  to  the  generation  to  follow.  But 
this  code  still  remained  a  collection  of  empirical 
formulas  fortuitously  discovered  and  not  a  well-co- 
ordinated body  of  reasoned  and  scientifically  correct 
knowledge. 

Now  the  distinguishing  feature  of  modern  technical 
processes  is  precisely  the  gradual  substitution  of 
rational  knowledge  for  empiricism  and  of  scientific 
methods  for  traditional  formulae.  Thus  scientific 
knowledge  has,  as  its  corollary,  a  profound  modi- 
fication of  all  technical  processes,  which  gradually 
assume  an  entirely  new  complexion.  What  is  the 
goal  towards  which  natural  science  is  tending  ?  It 
is  essentially  directed  towards  reducing  differences 
of  quality  to  difference  of  quantity,  towards  finding  a 
mathematical  formula  for  giving  an  adequate  ex- 
planation of  some  natural  fact,  and  finally  towards 
bringing  down  all  the  phenomena  of  organic  life  to 
6 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

the  increasingly  complex  movements  of  primordial 
elements,  which,  in  essence,  are  the  same  as  those 
which  constitute  inorganic  bodies.  Similarly,  modern 
technical  processes  in  all  their  various  forms — 
mechanics,  thermophysics,  chemistry,  electricity,  etc. 
■ — tend  everywhere  to  eliminate  living  agents  and  to 
substitute  dead  elements  in  their  stead  ;  to  replace, 
for  instance,  human  or  animal  motive  power  by 
steam  or  electricity,  workers  made  of  flesh  and  bone 
by  instruments  of  iron  and  steel  and  by  machinery  ; 
natural  organic  products  such  as  wood,  vegetable 
colours,  and  manure,  by  artificial  inorganic  products 
like  coal  and  iron,  aniline  dyes,  and  chemical  manures. 
Thus  technical  processes  become  ever  more  exact, 
impersonal  and  independent  of  time  and  space ;  they 
no  longer  depend  upon  capacity,  whether  natural 
or  acquired — manual  dexterity,  keensightedness, 
hearing,  taste,  or  smell — among  various  classes  of 
men  ;  they  operate  with  the  rigorous,  impartial,  un- 
swerving accuracy  of  a  machine  ;  they  are  not  obliged 
to  submit  to  conditions  of  time  and  place,  to  which 
the  natural  growth  of  animal  or  vegetable  organisms 
is  subject,  but  produce  the  results  they  wish  to 
obtain  by  means  of  an  artificial  combination  of 
elements  and  forces  which  are  always  at  their  dis- 
posal. They  are  no  longer  more  or  less  delicate 
arts,  whose  secrets  it  would  be  possible  to  lose,  but 
definite  acquisitions,  for  all  time  and  all  nations,  of 
the  knowledge  common  to  all  mankind. 

Thus  the  development  of  science  and  of  technical 
processes  based  upon  reason  increased  the  power  of 
man  and  his  dominion  over  nature  to  inordinate 
proportions.  And  under  these  circumstances  we 
also  find  a  profound  change  in  his  entire  attitude 
towards  life  and  the  world. 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  as  we  saw,  man  felt  himself 
essentially  a  dependent  creature.  In  all  the  depart- 
ments of  his  material  or  spiritual  life  he  obeyed 
either  God  or  tradition.  In  the  domain  of  religion, 
the  Bible  or  the  Church  gave  him  for  all  great 
metaphysical  problems  a  definite  and  complete 
solution  inspired  by  God  Himself,  which  he  was  ex- 
pected to  accept  without  reservation  or  discussion. 
Morality  was  imposed  upon  him  as  a  divine  ordinance 
which  he  should  humbly  obey.  The  organisation  of 
society,  founded  upon  ancient  tradition,  was  also 
invested  with  a  semi-sacred  character.  In  all  the 
important  acts  of  his  life,  man  obeyed  a  command 
given  by  a  power  whose  will  was  infinitely  above 
his  own,  and  to  whom  a  humble  and  resigned  sub- 
missiveness  was  the  only  possible  attitude. 

Now,  it  is  precisely  this  submissive  attitude  towards 
an  outside  authority  which  is  modified  as  m^| 
gains  consciousness  of  his  own  power.  For  centuries 
Christianity  provided  men  of  the  western  world  with 
a  cosmology — an  explanation  of  historic  evolution,  an 
interpretation  of  the  meaning  of  life  and  a  rule  of 
conduct  ;  for  centuries  they  had  inscribed  Faith  at 
the  head  of  their  Table  of  Values.  But  as  rational 
knowledge  grew,  together  with  the  power  of  organi- 
sation which  such  knowledge  confers,  man  learned 
self-confidence.  Science  now  rose  up  as  a  rival  to 
Faith.  Proud  of  her  magnificent  victories,  Reason 
aspired  to  usurp  the  place  of  Religion  in  all  depart- 
ments of  human  life.  She  in  her  turn  raised  her 
eyes  towards  the  first  place  upon  the  Table  of  Values. 
Since  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  the 
rationalistic  movement  has  resulted  in  gigantic 
synthetic  constructions,  such  as  the  systems  of  Des- 
cartes,   Spinoza,    and    Leibnitz,    in    which    Reason, 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

elevated  to  the  tribunal  of  the  supreme  judge  of  truth, 
sets  herself  the  task  of  constructing,  by  the  light  of 
her  own  illumination  alone,  and  independent  of  all 
authority,  of  all  tradition  and  all  revelation,  an  order 
of  the  Universe.  At  the  beginning  of  the  modern 
era,  German  thought,  in  the  persons  of  Kant  and 
Fichte,  announced,  with  no  uncertain  voice,  the  great 
principle  of  Free  Will.  This  disturbed  the  connection 
which  was  hitherto  regarded  as  existing  between 
religion  and  morality.  The  old  order  of  ethics,  which 
attributed  the  principles  of  morality  to  the  Divine 
Will  and  curbed  the  human  will  by  the  ordinances  of 
God,  was,  for  Kant,  a  heteronomous  morality,  founded 
upon  the  principle  of  authority,  which  he  repulsed 
with  all  the  force  at  his  command.  In  maintaining 
that  "  Pure  Will,"  or  will  determined  by  pure  Reason, 
and  swayed  exclusively  by  the  law  she  lays  down  for 
herself,  is  the  principle  of  all  true  morality,  and  by 
proclaiming  that  there  is  no  authority  in  the  world 
which  can  command  human  Liberty,  that  man  is  his 
own  lawgiver,  and  that  in  obeying  the  moral  law  it 
is  the  voice  of  his  own  Reason  to  which  he  listens, 
Kant  accomplished,  in  the  domain  of  ethics,  a  task 
which  in  its  bearings  was  truly  colossal  and  in- 
augurated a  new  era  in  the  history  of  moral  con- 
sciousness. Through  him  the  human  race  became 
definitely  conscious  of  its  autonomy. 

The  idea  of  human  autonomy  was  from  that  time 
forward  proclaimed  with  ever-increasing  strength. 
Humanity  learned  to  believe  ever  more  and  more 
firmly  that  the  thinking  and  active  "  subject  "  re- 
cognises no  power  above  himself  before  whom  he 
should  bow.  The  modern  man  has  a  growing  con- 
viction that  he  should  not  obey,  but  command  and 
organise.     He  resolutely  faces  the  problem  of  the 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

rational  exploitation  of  the  universe,  and  he  labours 
at  the  scientific  organisation  of  life  in  all  its  aspects 
— moral,  economic,  social,  and  political. 

In  its  most  extreme  and  paradoxical  form,  the 
subjectivism  of  our  day  proclaims  with  Nietzsche 
that  "  God  is  dead,"  denies  not  only  the  transcen- 
dental deity  of  the  theologian,  but  also  the  immanent 
God  of  the  metaphysician,  urges  mankind  to  remain 
';  faithful  to  this  world,"  to  put  resolutely  aside 
all  interest  in  a  Beyond,  and  to  understand  that  he 
should  be  a  "  creator  of  values,"  that  outside  himself 
there  is  no  "  objective  "  truth,  morality,  or  meta- 
physics to  which  he  should  submit,  but  that  in  all 
independence  he  should  be  a  law  unto  himself. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  centres  of  force  in 
a  state  of  perpetual  evolution  and  of  unceasing 
action  and  reaction  upon  each  other.  The  Will  to 
Power,  to  ever-increasing  power,  which  subjects 
to  its  dominion  an  ever  greater  sum  of  energy,  is 
the  fundamental  fact  of  the  life  of  the  universe. 
The  severance  from  the  point  of  view  prevalent  in  the 
Middle  Ages  is  complete.  Then  we  had  the  believer 
who  felt  himself  surrounded  by  mystery  and  miracle, 
and  submitted  meekly  to  the  authority  of  tradition, 
whether  religious,  moral,  or  scientific.  To-day  we 
find  the  stern  Titan,  who  no  longer  recognises  any 
law  or  any  master  above  him,  but  sees  in  the  cease- 
less Will  to  Power,  the  eternal  destiny  of  man, 
mankind,  and  the  whole  world. 

When  I  contrast  the  old  belief  in  authority  with 
modern  subjectivism,  I  do  not  wish  in  any  way  to 
assert  that  either  of  these  two  conceptions  of  life  is 
intrinsically  superior  to  the  other,  or  that  one  of 
them  should  necessarily  supplant  the  other,  or  that 
history  shows  us  a  progressive  evolution,  continuous 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

though  indefinite,  towards  rationalistic  subjectivism. 
All  that  I  wish  to  say  is  this — that  mankind  during 
modern  times,  and  especially  during  the  nineteenth 
century,  has  felt  within  himself  the  tremendous 
growth  of  the  belief  in  the  organising  power  of  the 
human  intellect  and  will,  that  he  has  applied  his 
energy  with  remarkable  intensity  to  the  conquest  of 
'  power,"  whether  scientific  or  technical,  economic 
or  political,  and  that  the  effort  to  inaugurate  the 
universal  rule  of  scientific  and  free  reason  is,  per- 
haps, the  greatest  fact  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
But  it  is  also  true  that  the  "  religious  "  instinct, 
which  made  the  spirits  of  the  Middle  Ages  bow  before 
the  mystery  of  God,  which  led  them  to  reverence  in 
tradition  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  Will,  which 
impelled  them  to  adoration  and  submission  to  a 
universal  order — in  short,  to  an  attitude,  not  of  com- 
mand, but  of  reverent  humility  before  the  riddle  of 
the  world — this  instinct  has  not,  even  in  our  days, 
ceased  from  making  its  voice  heard.  The  modern 
man  works  with  all  his  might  to  conquer  the  world 
through  intelligence  and  conscious  will.  And  he  has 
pride  in  his  strength.  But  he  also  retains  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  strict  limitation  of  his  power  over 
matter.  He  still  reveres  the  terrible  and  infinite 
powers  which  close  about  him  and  upon  which  he 
feels  his  dependence.  And,  especially  in  Germany, 
he  willingly  esteems  and  respects,  in  addition  to  the 
rules  of  conduct  dictated  by  reason,  that  unconscious 
wisdom  which  finds  expression  in  great  religious, 
moral,  political,  and  social  traditions. 

The  history  of  Germany  in  the  nineteenth  century 
is  therefore  doubly  interesting.  Of  all  the  nations 
of  Europe,  the  German  people  is  one  of  those  among 
whom  scientific  reason  and  organising  will  have  dis- 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

played  the  most  extraordinary  prowess  and  modern 
subjectivism  has  blossomed  most  luxuriantly.  But 
it  is  also  one  among  whom  the  "  religious  "  spirit, 
respect  for  tradition  and  authority,  has  retained 
the  greatest  strength.  German  thought  has  been  a 
powerful  helper  in  the  development  of  the  positive 
sciences  and  in  the  elaboration  of  a  rational  explana- 
tion of  the  universe.  German  force  has  organised 
itself  in  a  manner  as  methodical  as  it  is  formidable  ; 
it  has  clung  with  incomparable  energy  to  the  con- 
quest of  power,  both  economic  and  political ;  and 
it  has  made  Germany,  together  with  England  and 
the  United  States,  one  of  the  most  expansive  nations 
of  the  world.  German  Reason,  therefore,  has  proved 
herself  a  force  of  the  first  magnitude  and  a  peerless 
instrument  of  power.  But  she  has  not  posed  as  an 
absolute  and  intolerant  sovereign,  and  has  always 
sought  to  work  as  amiably  as  possible  with  the 
forces  of  the  past.  She  has  endeavoured,  in  the 
realm  of  religion,  to  make  a  compromise  with  tradi- 
tional beliefs,  to  "*  fulfil  "  Christianity  rather  than 
fight  it  to  the  death.  And  in  the  domain  of  politics, 
instead  of  founding  a  uniformly  rationalistic  state, 
she  has  displayed  great  consideration  for  tradition, 
has  shown  a  respect  for  monarchical  authority,  and 
has  been  careful  not  to  violate  vested  interests,  or 
to  precipitate  too  hurriedly  the  evolutionary  process 
which  bears  modern  nations  towards  democracy. 

Does  this  constitute  a  strength  or  a  weakness  ? 
This  is  indeed  a  question.  Some  will  admire  the 
continuity  of  the  political  and  religious  evolution  of 
Germany  ;  they  will  regard  it  as  a  priceless  advan- 
tage for  a  nation  not  to  have  made  a  clean  slate  of 
the  past ;  they  will  consider  it  probable  that  she  will 
continue  to  develop  along  the  same  lines,  without 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

any  violent  shakes  or  blows,  seeking  and  finding,  in 
the  means  between  the  two  extremes  of  democracy 
and  Socialism,  or  feudalism  and  clericalism,  a  formula 
acceptable  to  the  great  majority.  Others,  on  the 
contrary,  will  think  that  the  Germany  of  to-day — 
a  military  and  feudalistic  state,  an  empire  with  a 
sternly  realistic  outlook,  thirsting  for  power  and 
wealth,  and  disdainful  of  all  democratic  and  humani- 
tarian idealism — is  an  anachronism  in  modern  Europe, 
and  cannot  fail — perhaps  in  the  near  future — to 
undergo  grave,  and  maybe  violent,  transformations. 
I,  for  my  part,  have  no  pretensions  to  giving  an 
original  verdict  on  questions  so  hotly  disputed. 
Without  pretending  that  it  is  possible  in  a  matter 
of  this  kind  to  attain  complete  objectivity,  I  shall 
at  least  try  to  describe  as  impartially  as  I  can,  and 
with  the  least  possible  obtrusion  of  my  own  personal 
feelings,  a  collection  of  phenomena  which  are  of 
extraordinary  interest  to  us.  For  some  time  past 
German  science  has,  in  numerous  works  by  single 
individuals  and  several  collaborators,  taken  upon 
itself  the  task  of  making  up  the  balance-sheet  of  the 
last  century.  Some  of  these  works — from  which  I 
shall  quote  in  particular  Lamprecht's  admirable 
History  of  Germany — are  of  the  highest  importance. 
I  thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  present  to  the 
French  public,  in  as  simple  a  shape  as  possible,  some 
of  the  general  results  of  this  vast  field  of  inquiry.1 

1  The  most  important  are  :  Das  XIX  Jahrhundert  in  Deutsch- 
lands  Entwicklung,  hg.  v.  P.  Schlenther,  Berlin,  Bondi,  1898,  ss.  ; 
Die  Allgemeinen  Grundlagen  der  Kultur  der  Gegenwart,  hg.  v.  P. 
Hinneberg,  Berlin  u.  Leipzig,  Teubner,  1906,  ss.  ;  Am  Ende  des 
Jahrhunderts,  Berlin,  Cronbach,  1898,  ss.  ;  Das  Deutsche  Jahr- 
hundert in  Einzelschriften,  hg.  v.  G.  Stockhausen,  Berlin,  Schneider, 
1901  ;  H.  St.  Chamberlain,  Die  Grundlagen  des  XIX  Jahrhunderts, 
Munchen,  Bruckmann,  1889.  It  seemed  to  me,  moreover,  impos- 
sible, without  making  my  book  too  heavy,  to  give  either  a  biblio- 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

By  very  reason  of  the  profound  differences  which  at 
present  separate  France  from  the  Germany  of  to-day, 
it  would  be  useful  for  us  to  force  ourselves  to  form, 
without  passion,  a  clear  image  and  a  general  idea 
which  shall  be  as  precise  as  possible  of  the  tendencies 
of  that  nation.  My  only  object,  in  this  study,  is  to 
trace  the  bold  outlines  of  this  picture  as  faithfully 
and  sincerely  as  I  can. 

graphy  of  the  works  I  have  consulted,  or  to  quote,  in  any  detail, 
the  authors  to  whom  I  refer.  Among  the  works  from  which  I 
have  derived  most  profit,  I  must  mention  in  the  foremost  place 
the  three  volumes  which  Lamprecht  published  as  supplements  to 
his  History  of  Germany  under  "the  title  of  Zur  jiingsten  deutschen 
V^rgangenheit  (Freiburg,  1902-1904),  then  the  German  works  of 
Sombart,  Ziegler,  Treitschke,  E.  Marcks,  Lenz,  Zwiedineck-Siiden- 
horst,  F.  Mehring,  Paulsen,  Troeltsch,  Nippold,  Briick,  Windelband, 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  Kulpe,  R.  M.  Meyer,  Bartels,  Gurlitt,  Muther, 
Meier-Graefe,  Riemann,  etc.,  and  finally  the  French  works  by 
Andler,  Basch,  Denis,  Goyau,  Levy  Bruhl,  Albert  Levy,  Matter, 
Milhaud,  Pariset,  Rouge,  etc.  It  goes  without  saying  that  I 
might  enlarge  this  list  considerably.  But  I  do  not  see  what  use 
such  a  catalogue  would  be  to  the  French  reader.  I  merely  wish 
to  point  out  that  the  ideas  I  develop  in  this  volume  are  not  my 
own  exclusive  property.  This  essay,  I  repeat,  has  no  other  object 
than  that  of  giving  a  summary  of  the  researches  lately  made  on 
the  subject  of  the  culture  of  modern  Germany  by  historians  with- 
out whom  my  book  would  never  have  been  written. 


BOOK   I 
ECONOMIC  EVOLUTION 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    DEVELOPMENT    OF   THE    SYSTEM    OF    CAPITALISTIC 

ENTERPRISE 

The  great  fact  which  dominates  the  economic  and 
social  history  of  Germany,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
whole  of  Europe,  during  the  nineteenth  century,  is 
the  growth  of  capitalism,  or,  to  use  a  term  more 
generally  favoured  by  German  political  economists, 
the  system  of  "enterprise"  (Unternehmung). 

Former  ages  never  felt  to  the  same  extent  as  the 
nineteenth  century  that  greed  for  unlimited  gain 
which  is  characteristic  of  the  modern  speculator 
of  every  category.  In  the  pre-capitalistic  era,  each 
individual,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  in  the  social 
scale,  aimed  only  at  earning  enough  to  ensure  him  the 
means  of  sustenance  (Nahrung)  and  a  mode  of  life  in 
keeping  with  the  customs  of  his  class.  This  was  the 
ideal  of  the  country  gentleman,  of  the  Junker,1  who, 
as  a  rule,  did  not  aim  at  that  intensive  cultivation 
of  his  property  which  would  make  it  yield  the  abso- 
lute maximum  of  production,  but  only  asked  from 
his  lands  sufficient  maintenance  for  his  rank,  the  right 
of  living  like  a  lord  on  his  estate  for  part  of  the 
year,  of  hunting  in  the  autumn,  paying  a  visit  to  the 
capital  of  the  kingdom  or   province  during  the  bad 

1  The  landed  proprietor,  whose  class  is  the  dominating  one  in 
Prussia.  It  is  from  this  class  that  all  officers  and  higher  officials 
are  drawn. —  Tr, 

3 


4     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

season,  and  providing  a  dowry  for  his  daughters  and 
supplementing  the  income  of  a  son  in  the  army.  The 
ideal  of  the  artisan  and  of  the  '  master "  was  a 
similar  one.  He  expected  his  trade  to  support  him, 
together  with  his  family  and  the  journeymen  and 
apprentices,  who  lived  under  his  roof  and  formed 
part  of  his  household.  He  never  dreamt  of  extending 
his  output  indefinitely,  but  only  aspired  to  the  life 
of  a  self-supporting  producer,  who  faithfully  satisfied 
the  ordinary  demands  of  a  very  limited  number  of 
clients,  whom  no  man  had  the  right  to  lure  away  from 
him.  And,  like  the  craftsman,  the  tradesman  had 
no  other  object  than  that  of  earning  a  livelihood 
by  disposing  of  his  goods  among  a  more  or  less  re- 
stricted circle  of  customers  with  whose  tastes  and 
traditional  needs  he  was  familiar. 

Under  these  conditions,  the  general  tendency  of  the 
age  was  to  protect  the  position  which  a  man  had  won, 
or  inherited,  against  the  results  of  unrestricted  compe- 
tition and  the  encroachments  of  neighbours,  who  were 
either  too  greedy  or  too  enterprising.  The  landed  pro- 
prietor was  bound  not  to  allow  his  lands  to  lie  fallow, 
or  to  reduce  the  number  of  his  tenures  or  the  sum- 
total  of  the  peasant  families  for  whom  he  provided  a 
livelihood  on  his  estate  ;  he  was  even  liable  to  help 
them  in  time  of  difficulty.  In  return,  he  was  certain 
of  always  having  at  his  disposal,  through  the  institu- 
tion of  serfdom  and  forced  labour,  the  service  which 
was  necessary  for  the  cultivation  of  his  property. 
In  a  similar  way,  the  artisans  were  protected  by  their 
guilds,  which,  although  they  were  fast  dying  out, 
still  existed  in  rough  outline  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  These  guilds  had  the  effect  of 
creating,  in  every  town,  a  sort  of  monopoly,  based 
either  upon  law  or  upon  usage,   in  favour  of  the 


CAPITALISTIC   ENTERPRISE  5 

"  masters  "  of  the  various  trades,  and  of  limiting  the 
competition  between  the  masters  themselves  in  such 
a  way  as  to  prevent  the  appropriation  of  raw  material 
and  labour  by  a  few  individuals  and  to  hinder  the 
diversion  of  custom. 

This  idea  of  a  "  competency  "  gradually  gave  way 
to  that  of  "  free  enterprise."  From  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  protestations  resounded  on  every 
side  against  the  barriers  which  barred  the  path  to 
private  initiative.  The  old  organisation  of  the  rural 
community,  which,  by  the  partition  of  an  estate  and 
the  inextricable  mingling  of  the  allotments,  made  all 
the  inhabitants  of  a  village  dependent  upon  each 
other  and  forced  them  to  cultivate  their  land  accord- 
ing to  a  traditional  plan  laid  down  by  the  elders 
of  the  place  for  use  throughout  the  entire  area  of 
cultivation,  was  set  aside.  The  people  rebelled 
against  the  feudal  system  of  a  landed  aristocracy, 
which  placed  the  peasant  in  a  position  of  absolute 
subjection  to  his  lord  and  denied  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  ever  winning  economic  independence. 
They  complained  of  the  countless  obstacles  placed 
by  the  guilds  in  the  way  of  the  natural  growth  of 
industry  and  commerce  ;  but,  above  all,  they  pro- 
tested against  the  tutelary  administration  of  the 
enlightened  despotism,  which,  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  reserved  for  itself  all  initiative  in  economic 
matters  and  regulated,  down  to  the  smallest  detail, 
the  life  and  productive  powers  of  the  nation.  The 
physiocrats  in  France,  and  Adam  Smith  in  England, 
proclaimed  the  blessings  of  laisser-faire,  and  a  similar 
spirit  inspired  William  of  Humboldt,  in  his  celebrated 
pamphlet  on  the  "  Limits  of  State  Interference " 
(1795),  to  raise  an  energetic  protest  against  a  bureau- 
cratic system  which  made  man  into  a  machine,  cast 


6      EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

officials  in  the  moulds  of  slavery,  and  stifled  all  inde- 
pendent action  in  the  masses. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  after 
the  annihilation  of  Prussia  at  Jena,  these  ideas 
tended  to  gain  the  upper  hand  among  the  patriots, 
who  set  themselves  the  task  of  raising  their  native 
land  from  the  dust.  In  their  opinion,  the  weakness 
of  Prussia  relative  to  the  French  Empire  was  due 
to  the  fact  that,  whilst  in  France  the  Revolution  had 
roused  the  whole  nation  to  take  a  share  in  public 
life,  enlightened  despotism  and  the  feudal  system 
had  crushed  out  every  trace  of  spontaneity  in  Prussia. 
They  accordingly  set  themselves  the  task  of  awaken- 
ing the  national  conscience,  of  breathing  life  into 
the  sluggish  mass  which  constituted  the  Prussian 
State,  and  of  transforming  it  into  an  organism 
in  which  every  limb  was  alive  and  co-operated 
freely  in  the  work  of  the  whole  system.  They 
persuaded  the  king  to  carry  out  from  above  the 
Revolution  which  the  French  people  accomplished 
from  below. 

It  was  imperative  for  the  nation  to  be  set  free 
from  feudal  and  administrative  tutelage.  Absolute 
rule,  which  was  incapable,  on  its  own  resources,  of 
making  good  the  evils  caused  by  the  war,  or  of  pro- 
viding any  effective  relief  for  the  various  grievances 
of  private  individuals,  abdicated  its  economic  pre- 
rogatives and  decided  to  "  suppress  every  obstacle 
which  had  hitherto  been  able  to  prevent  any  indi- 
vidual from  attaining  that  degree  of  prosperity  to 
which  his  powers  entitled  him  to  raise  himself."  In 
every  department  of  the  administration,  Stein  en- 
deavoured to  introduce  the  principle  of  autonomy. 
Stein,  and  afterwards  Hardenberg,  attempted  to 
raise  the  condition  of  the  rural  population  by  abolish- 


CAPITALISTIC   ENTERPRISE  7 

ing    serfdom,    allowing    the    redemption    of    forced 
labour,  setting  the  tenant  free  from  his  lord's  estate, 
and  the  peasant  from  the  village  community,  and 
by  favouring  the  formation  of  a  class  of  independent 
peasantry   who   possessed  their  own   land.     In  the 
towns  they  enfranchised  the  Third  Estate  by  pro- 
claiming  the    freedom   of   industry  and   commerce, 
destroying  the  guild  system,  and  granting  parochial 
self-government  on  a  liberal  scale.     In  spite  of  the 
resistance  of  the  feudal  party,  which  succeeded  for 
many  years  in  preventing  this  agrarian  reform  from 
being  carried  into  execution,  and,  in  the  final  liquida- 
tion of  the  feudal  system,  managed  to  secure  enor- 
mous material  advantages,  the  old  order  crumbled 
away  after  a  hopeless  defeat.     The  State  renounced 
the    right    of    directing    the    economic    life    of    the 
nation.     On  a  large   number  of   cardinal   points   it 
left  a  clear  field  for  private  initiative,  and  unchained 
the  spirit  of  enterprise,  whose  ambition  had  till  then 
been  thwarted  by  the  feudal  system  and  the  guilds. 
The  era  of  unrestricted  competition  was  inaugurated. 
A  new  class  of  speculators  now  sprang  into  existence 
and  grew  rapidly,   at  first  among  the  landed  pro- 
prietors,  and  afterwards  among  the  industrial  and 
trading  classes  as  well.     They   were  men  in  whom 
the  spirit  of  enterprise  had  become  incarnate,  and 
who  were  actuated  only  by  the  desire   to   develop 
their   economic  power  indefinitely.    It  is  this  class 
which  from  that  moment  took  the  lead  in  the  eco- 
nomic movement  ;   and  in  a  very  short  time  unre- 
stricted competition,  by  utilising  for  its  own  ends  the 
marvellous  progress  in  science  and  technical  processes, 
which  we  have  just  sketched,  succeeded  in  overturn- 
ing and  transforming  with  incredible  rapidity  the 
manner  of  life  of  the  whole  nation. 


8    EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Let  us  trace  the  principal  phases  of  its  evolution 
during  the  course  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  century,  Germany  was  a 
rather  poor  agricultural  country,  but  little  developed 
from  the  economic  point  of  view.  It  is  estimated 
that  the  Empire  itself  had  at  that  time  a  population 
only  of  about  25  millions,  of  whom  three-quarters, 
at  least,  lived  in  the  country,  and  two-thirds  were 
engaged  in  agricultural  pursuits.  There  was  very 
little  industry  and  commerce.  Means  of  communica- 
tion were  few  and  bad  :  Prussia  in  1816  possessed 
only  523  miles  of  high-roads,  and  they  were  execrable  ; 
the  post  was  slow,  inconvenient,  and  costly.  More- 
over, the  Treaties  of  Vienna  sanctioned  the  political 
and  economic  partition  of  Germany.  As  soon  as 
peace  was  declared,  thirty-eight  lines  of  customs 
frontiers  paralysed  all  internal  commerce,  and,  to  use 
List's  well-known  description,  produced  "  much  the 
same  result  as  if  one  decided  to  bind  up  the  various 
members  of  the  human  body  in  order  to  prevent  the 
blood  from  circulating  from  one  to  the  other." 
Every  industrial  impulse  was,  consequently,  for  the 
time  being,  impossible.  Moreover,  the  economic  life 
of  the  nation  was  still  somewhat  primitive.  The  line 
of  demarcation  between  agricultural  and  industrial 
pursuits  remained  very  indistinct.  The  peasant  still 
fashioned  a  large  number  of  the  utensils,  clothes,  and 
articles  of  all  kinds  which  he  required ;  and,  con- 
versely, many  artisans  and  journeymen  had,  in 
addition  to  their  trade,  a  little  corner  of  ground 
which  they  cultivated  themselves.  Agriculture  alone 
had  been  developed,  and  was  even  in  a  prosperous 
condition.  Important  demands  for  agricultural  pro- 
ducts arose  in  England  owing  to  the  growth  of 
industry  and  the  increase  of  urban  centres  ;    while 


CAPITALISTIC   ENTERPRISE  9 

Holland  and  the  Scandinavian  countries  also  became 
importers  of  corn.  Now  Germany  at  that  time  hap- 
pened to  be  in  a  position  to  export  part  of  her  agri- 
cultural products,  and  was  consequently  able  to  sell 
a  fairly  large  quantity  of  them,  especially  corn, 
abroad.  This  favourable  state  of  things  gave  the 
landowners  the  opportunity  of  improving  their 
methods  of  culture ;  agricultural  processes  were 
perfected  under  the  able  guidance  of  Thaer,  and  the 
price  of  land  went  up.  At  that  moment,  for  various 
reasons,  a  number  of  important  towns  sprang  into 
existence  in  the  north  of  Germany,  in  consequence 
of  which  the  spirit  of  enterprise  awoke,  and  we  find 
the  growth  of  fairly  active  speculation  in  agri- 
cultural land. 

Throughout  the  first  half  of  the  century  this  state 
of  things  changed  very  little,  but  it  is  possible  to 
trace  the  birth  of  circumstances  which  a  little  later 
on  were  to  bring  about  the  economic  awakening  of 
Germany.  The  first  factor  was  the  population, 
which,  in  consequence  of  the  agricultural  prosperity, 
increased  by  leaps  and  bounds  :  between  1816  and 
1845  the  number  of  inhabitants  rose  from  25  millions 
to  34| — that  is  to  say,  an  increase  of  38*7  per  cent. — 
the  highest  that  was  ever  reached  during  the  century. 
Secondly,  the  establishment  of  the  Zollverein  during 
the  'thirties  had  the  result  of  creating  in  Germany 
a  territory  of  8,253  square  miles  which  was  free 
from  all  internal  customs  and  contained  a  popula- 
tion of  at  least  25  million  inhabitants.  The  rhythm 
of  exchange  began  to  grow  more  rapid  and  the 
means  of  communication  more  frequent.  New  roads 
were  made,  and  under  the  energetic  sway  of  Nagler, 
the  Postmaster-General,  the  postal  service  became 
quicker  and  more  reliable.     In  1835   the   first  rail- 


10   EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

way  line  in  Germany  was  built  between  Nuremberg 
and  Fiirth,  and  at  the  end  of  ten  years — in  1845 — 
there  was  a  network  of  2,131  kilometres  of  railroad. 
At  the  same  time,  the  first  and  still  feeble  indications 
of  the  new  spirit  of  enterprise  made  their  appearance 
in  the  domain  of  industry.  The  great  mining  in- 
dustry gradually  freed  itself  from  the  old  forms  which 
fettered  its  flight,  and  every  day  saw  the  growth  of 
its  own  importance.  In  connection  with  certain 
branches  of  the  textile  industry,  and  especially  in 
the  spinning  and  weaving  of  cotton,  factories  grew 
more  numerous  and  tended  to  monopolise  the  entire 
production.  But,  generally  speaking,  the  period 
between  1820  and  1850  did  not  produce  any  decisive 
economic  progress.  About  1820,  agriculture  even 
underwent  a  crisis  which  lasted  nearly  ten  years,  and 
made  itself  felt  by  a  depression  in  land  values  and 
numerous  bankruptcies.  German  industry  also  found 
great  difficulty  in  struggling  against  the  crushing 
competition  of  England,  which,  in  default  of  suffi- 
ciently high  protective  tariffs,  inundated  Germany 
with  cheap  goods.  Thus  the  country  went  through 
a  period  of  difficulty  and  discomfort,  and  complaints 
were  everywhere  rife  about  want  of  money  and  hard 
times. 

But  directly  after  the  great  crisis  of  1848  every- 
thing changed.  As  the  scale  of  commerce  for  several 
years  turned  in  favour  of  Germany,  money  began 
once  more  to  flow  in  and  accumulate  there.  The 
price  of  agricultural  products,  and  consequently  the 
value  of  land,  showed  a  steady  rise.  The  triumph 
of  reactionary  principles,  moreover,  seemed  to  herald 
a  period  of  internal  peace.  The  whole  country,  sick 
of  political  struggles  and  the  fruitless  agitations  they 
involved,    flung   itself   from  that   moment   with   re- 


CAPITALISTIC  ENTERPRISE  11 

doubled  energy  upon  the  conquest  of  material  pros- 
perity and  wealth.  The  spirit  of  enterprise  and 
the  love  of  speculation  were  not  confined,  as  they 
had  been  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  to  a  small 
fraction  of  the  public,  but  invaded  the  lowest  layers 
of  the  nation,  and  once  for  all  took  possession  of  the 
business  world.  During  the  twenty  years  which 
separated  the  crisis  of  1848-49.  from  the  Franco- 
German  War,  modern  capitalistic  Germany  was 
formed.  We  now  find  a  great  increase  in  credit 
banks,  such  as  the  Bank  fur  Handel  und  Industrie 
zu  Darmstadt  (founded  in  1853)  and  other  similar 
institutions  whose  business  consisted  in  collecting  the 
financial  means  necessary  for  the  organisation  of 
great  industrial  speculations  or  means  of  transport, 
and  of  thus  stimulating  to  the  highest  possible  pitch 
the  spirit  of  enterprise  which  gave  them  birth  and 
which  kept  them  alive.  Joint-stock  companies, 
which,  in  a  sense,  make  speculation  democratic  and 
associate  the  most  modest  resources  with  great 
capitalistic  enterprises,  sprang  from  the  earth  on 
every  side  and  multiplied  with  extraordinary  rapidity. 
It  is  estimated  that  in  Germany,  between  1853  and 
1857,  the  issue  of  shares  in  new  banks  alone  amounted 
to  200  million  thalers,  and  railway  shares  to  140 
million  thalers,  whilst  a  similar  increase  was  shown 
in  issues  of  a  different  nature,  such  as  railway  or 
industrial  bonds,  shares  in  insurance  companies, 
mining  ventures,  steam  navigation,  machinery,  sugar 
refineries,  cotton  mills,  etc.  The  years  inaugurating 
the  second  half  of  the  century  formed  the  first  lap 
in  the  marvellous  economic  development  which  was 
to  place  Germany  at  the  head  of  the  industrial  nations 
of  Europe.  It  was  during  this  period  that  the  net- 
work of   great  railways  joining  the  principal  towns 


12   EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

of  Germany  to  each  other  and  the  outlying  districts 
to  the  centre  was  built.  At  the  same  time,  mining 
and  weaving  industries  assumed  a  definitely  modern 
complexion,  whilst  in  the  domain  of  agriculture, 
scientific  processes  of  cultivation  were  every  day 
more  widely  employed. 

The  four  years  following  the  war  of  1870  are 
known  in  the  economic  history  of  Germany  by  the 
name  of  Griinderjahre.  The  fructifying  rain  of 
wealth  due  to  the  millions  of  the  war  indemnity 
produced  a  luxuriant  and  disordered  crop  of  capital- 
istic enterprises.  A  veritable  debauch  of  speculation 
filled  Germany.  The  economic  phenomena  which 
had  followed  the  crisis  of  1848  appeared  once  more, 
but  exaggerated  beyond  all  bounds.  There  was  a 
formidable  inundation  of  economic  activity  in  all 
quarters  and  a  headlong  rush  for  fortune.  It  is 
sufficient  to  quote  one  figure  to  illustrate  the  extra- 
ordinary intensity  of  this  movement.  The  twenty 
years  between  1851  and  1871  (first  half)  had  seen 
the  birth  of  205  joint-stock  companies  with  a  capital 
of  2,404  millions  of  marks.  The  four  years  between 
1870  (second  half)  and  1874  witnessed  the  sprouting 
of  857  with  a  capital  of  3,306  millions  of  marks.  As 
is  only  to  be  expected,  a  reverberating  crash  was  the 
result  of  this  orgy  of  speculation. 

After  this  violent  crisis  of  growth,  the  economic 
development  of  Germany  assumed  a  more  normal 
pace,  and  during  the  last  thirty  years  she  has  made 
giant  strides  along  the  path  of  progress.  It  is  true 
that  German  agriculture  is  in  the  toils  of  serious 
difficulties.  In  spite  of  the  remarkable  technical  pro- 
gress made  during  the  second  half  of  the  century,  it 
entered  upon  a  critical  period,  which  came  slowly  into 
existence,  manifested  itself  clearly  about  1875,  and 


CAPITALISTIC  ENTERPRISE  13 

has  not  even  yet  passed  away.  But  in  the  domains 
where  the  spirit  of  capitalistic  enterprise  is  most 
conspicuous,  such  as  banking,  transport,  industry, 
and  commerce,  German  industry  has  accomplished 
marvels.  The  great  law  of  the  "  concentration  of 
capital,"  in  virtue  of  which  modern  enterprise  tends 
to  accumulate  capital  in  ever  greater  masses,  to  in- 
crease indefinitely  the  dimensions  of  factories,  mills, 
and  institutions  of  all  kinds,  to  collect  ever-growing 
armies  of  workers  in  them,  and  to  produce  ever  more 
and  more  enormous  bulks  of  merchandise,  is  proved 
in  the  case  of  Germany  in  the  most  astounding 
manner.  During  a  relatively  short  lapse  of  time, 
one  can  trace  the  extraordinary  development  in  that 
country  of  credit  banks,1  of  means  of  communication 

1  A  few  figures  will  illustrate  better  than  any  theoretic  explana- 
tions  the   progress   achieved   by  Germany  in   the  organisation  of 
credit  and  the  tendency  towards  concentration  in  financial  matters. 
In  1846  there  were,  in  Prussia,   1,100  persons  engaged  in   finance 
and  in  the  employment  of  442  establishments,  which  gives  a  pro- 
portion of  658  employees  to  442  employers.     In  1895  there  were 
17,896    persons    employed    in    2,763    establishments,    which    gives 
15,133  employees  to  2,763  employers,  or   an  average  of  about  6 
men  to  each  master.     The  first  great  credit  banks  in  Germany, 
the  Darmstadter  Bank  and  the  Diskontogesellschaft,  were  founded, 
the  former  in   1853  with  a  capital  of   6 '8  millions  of  marks,   the 
latter   in   1S56  with  a  capital  of  37 '2  millions  of  marks.     At  the 
beginning  of  the  twentieth  century,   the  principal  German  bank, 
the   Deutsche  Bank,   was   carrying   on   business   with   a   capital   of 
257  millions  of  marks  (including  the  reserve  funds)  ;    and  the  seven 
largest  credit  banks  possessed,  in  1905,  in  subscribed  and  reserve 
capital,   a  total  of  nearly   1,400  millions  of  marks.     The  average 
daily  circulation  of  bank-notes  increased  from  120  millions  of  marks 
about  1850  to  1,316  millions  of  marks  in  1900  and  1,485  millions 
in  1905.     The  circulation  of  bills  in  the  Konigliche  Bank  of  Berlin 
in   1820  was  about   l£  millions  of  marks  ;     the  total  sum  of  bills 
discounted  at  the  Reichsbank  reached,  in  1905,  nearly  9,000  millions 
of  marks.     In  the  principal  banks  of  the  Empire,  the  annual  average 
of  the  sum-total  of  discounted  bills  reached  5'26  thousand  millions 
of  marks  per  annum  from  1876-80,  20-4  thousand  millions  of  marks 
from  1896-1900,  and  28'6  from  1901-1905.     At  the  same  time,  the 


14  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

and  transport  business,  railway,  river,  and  sea 
traffic,  postal,  telegraphic,  and  telephonic  l  services, 

total  annual  amount  of  the  transfer  operations  in  deposit  accounts 
rose  from  3,500  millions  of  marks  in  1875  (Preussische  Bank  and 
Hamburger  Bank)  to  164,000  millions  of  marks  in  1900  in  the 
Beichsbank  and  222,000  millions  in  1905,  whilst  the  sum-total  of 
settlements  carried  out  by  the  agency  of  the  Clearing  Houses, 
founded  by  the  Beichsbank,  rose  from  12  "1  thousand  millions  of 
marks  in  1884  to  2  9  5  thousand  millions  in  1900  and  3 7 '6  thousand 
millions  in  1905.  (The  majority  of  the  figures  I  give  have  been 
either  supplied  or  verified  by  the  Board  of  Financial  Investigation 
of  the  Credit  Lyonnais,  to  whom  I  take  this  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing my  gratitude  for  their  courtesy.) 

1  Let  me  once  more  quote  some  typical  figures.  The  network 
of  roads  in  Germany  increased  from  30,000  kil.  in  1857  to  96,000 
kil.  in  1900;  the  railroads  from  469  kil.  in  1840  to  54,164  kil.  in 
1905;  her  revenues  are  over  500,000  millions  of  marks;  her 
maritime  fleet  rose  from  a  tonnage  of  500,000  about  1850  to  2 
million  tons  in  1900  and  3|  million  in  1905  ;  she  has  thus  become 
the  second  maritime  power  of  the  world,  with  a  fleet  inferior  only 
to  the  English  Navy.  At  the  same  time,  there  is  a  noticeable  in- 
crease in  the  size  and  power  of  vehicles  and  in  the  number  of 
passengers  and  amount  of  goods  they  transport.  Large  four-horse 
waggons  used  to  carry  at  most  5  or  6  tons  of  merchandise  ; 
when  the  railways  were  first  opened,  an  engine  drew  40  waggons 
of  2  tons  apiece — that  is  to  say,  80  tons — whilst  at  the  present 
moment  it  draws  100  waggons  of  10  tons — that  is  to  say,  1,000  tons. 
The  large  boats  which  bear  the  traffic  of  the  Rhine  carried  400  tons 
in  1840,  800  in  1880,  2,000  in  1900.  The  average  tonnage  of  the 
ships  in  the  Port  of  Hamburg  rose  from  187  tons  between  1841  and 
1845  to  1,233  for  the  year  1900  ;  the  steamship  Wilhelm  II.  alone  is 
a  vessel  of  19,500  tons — that  is  to  say,  half  the  tonnage  of  the  whole 
fleet  of  Hamburg  about  1840,  which  consisted  of  211  ships  with  a 
tonnage  of  39,670  ;  the  engines  of  the  Great  Eastern  about  1850 
rose  to  3,000  horse-power,  whilst  those  of  the  large  steamers  of 
to-day  reach  40,000  h.p.  The  circulation  of  travellers  and  goods 
has  increased  in  similar  proportions.  In  1834  the  stage-coach 
service  carried  about  1  million  passengers ;  in  1905  it  carried 
over  3  millions  by  road ;  but  to  this  number  we  must  add 
the  1,000  million  passengers  who  travelled  by  rail  in  1905,  besides 
the  76 1£  millions  of  townspeople  who  used  the  tramways  and 
those  who  patronised  the  15,410  cabs  on  the  streets  of  the  towns 
(1899)-  It  is  estimated  that  in  1846  there  were,  within  the  con- 
fines of  the  Zollverein,  38,349  horses  in  use  for  the  transport  of 
passengers  and  goods   whose   total    power  was   computed  at   130 


CAPITALISTIC  ENTERPRISE  15 

and  large  industries  of  every  description.  The  total 
annual  production  of  the  mining  and  metal  industries 
in  Germany,  which  about  1800  represented  a  gross 
value  estimated  at  about  25  millions  of  marks, 
reached  in  1900  a  value  of  about  4,000  millions  of 
marks.1     Chemical  industry,  which  was  still  insignifi- 

millions  of  kilometric  tons  ;  the  power  in  use  in  1900  on  the  net- 
work of  railways  is  estimated  at  about  37,000  millions  of  kilo- 
metric  tons,  which  is  equivalent  to  the  work  done  by  about  11 
million  horses.  The  traffic  in  the  Port  of  Hamburg,  which  in  1831 
amounted  to  a  tonnage  of  232,000,  rose  to  8  million  tons  in  1900 
and  9 J  million  tons  in  1905;  for  the  aggregate  of  German  ports, 
it  has  increased  from  6,228,000  tons  in  1873  to  18  million  tons  in 
1900  and  22 -4  million  tons  in  1905.  Comparative  statistics  of  the 
river  and  canal  traffic  show  an  enormous  increase  during  the  last 
quarter  of  the  century  :  it  is  reckoned  that  the  total  traffic  of  the 
five  principal  ports  (Duisburg,  Ruhrort,  Mannheim,  Berlin,  Magde- 
burg) rose  from  7,761,000  tons  in  1882  to  28,813,000  tons  in  1903, 
whilst  at  the  same  time  the  import  and  export  trade  in  the  Rhine 
ports  rose  from  6,400,000  to  36,100,000  tons.  Lastly,  correspon- 
dence has  developed  to  colossal  proportions.  Whilst  about  1851  the 
average  was  about  3  letters  a  head,  it  is  estimated  that  every 
German  received  on  an  average  58'57  letters  or  cards  in  1900  and 
72-26  in  1904.  The  total  number  of  postal  packages  of  all  kinds 
has  reached  nearly  7,000  millions  a  year.  In  1850,  35,000  tele- 
graphic messages  were  sent,  in  1904,  46  millions ;  and  the  telephone, 
which  in  1881  served  7  localities  with  1,504  call  offices,  served, 
in  1904,  22,792  localities  with  515,300  public  and  private  call 
offices. 

1  The  progress  lately  achieved  by  the  mining  and  metal  in- 
dustries will  be  realised  from  the  following  figures.  In  1880  the 
output  of  coal  was  about  50  million  tons  and  of  cast  iron  2 "7 
million  tons.  In  1905  the  figures  are  respectively  121  million  tons 
and  almost  11  million  tons.  As  a  producer  of  iron  and  steel,  Ger- 
many since  1903  has  outstripped  England  and  is  second  only  to  the 
United  States.  Motor-power  has  increased  in  similar  porportions. 
About  1840  there  were  barely  500  motors  in  the  whole  territory 
of  the  Zollverein ;  in  1873  the  sum-total  of  motor-power  already 
exceeded  a  million  horse-power;  in  1895  it  reached  3'4  million,  and 
it  is  estimated  that  since  that  time  it  has  increased  again  by  90 
or  100  per  cent.  Mulhall  has  made  a  calculation  of  the  total 
power  (human,  animal,  or  mechanical)  in  use  in  Germany,  and 
taking  as  his  unit  the  force  necessary  to  raise  a  weight  of   1  ton 


16  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

cant  towards  the  middle  of  the  century,  increased 
rapidly,  especially  during  the  last  twenty  years  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  and  actually  produced  an 
output  the  total  value  of  which  was  estimated  at 
1,250  millions  of  marks  in  1905.  Electrical  industry, 
the  latest  result  of  the  great  creative  impulses  due  to 
the  spirit  of  capitalistic  enterprise,  increased  with 
extraordinary  rapidity  after  1880  and  especially 
after  1895,  triumphantly  surmounted  a  formidable 
crisis  during  the  opening  years  of  the  twentieth 
century,  and  carries  on  its  work  to-day  with  a  capital 
of  nearly  625  millions  of  marks,  and  represents,  if  we 
include  the  capital  involved  in  electric  installations, 
a  gross  value  of  about  2,500  millions  of  marks.  Thus, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  twentieth  century,  German 
industry  has  risen  to  an  unprecedented  degree  of 
power  and  prosperity,  of  which  those  who  are  engaged 
in  it  are  justifiably  proud.  Animated  by  an  extra- 
ordinary creative  activity,  it  increases  its  enterprises 
with  a  rapidity  and  a  boldness  which  baffle  the 
imagination.  The  years  between  1895  and  1899 
especially  formed  a  period  of  peculiarly  great  economic 
activity.  During  these  five  years,  the  net  sum-total 
of  stocks  issued  exceeded  10,000  millions  of  marks,  of 
which  over  1,250  millions  consisted  of  bank  shares, 
and  over  2,250  millions  of  industrial  stock.  And  if  the 
first  years  of  the  twentieth  century  were  inaugurated 
by  a  fairly  serious  crisis,  the  business  market  shows 
clear  signs  to-day  of  complete  recovery.  Whereas  in 
1900  the  sum-total  of  stocks  issued  (in  shares,  bonds, 
and  loans)  was  estimated  at  1,500  millions  of  marks ; 
in  1905  it  was  over  3,000  millions. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  the  result  of  the  last  few 

to  a  height  of  1   foot,  he  has  estimated   that  in  1840  there  were 
310  units  of  power  per  head,  in  1860,  415,  and  in  1895  about  900. 


CAPITALISTIC  ENTERPRISE  17 

years  has  been  a  brilliant  triumph  for  German  in- 
dustry and  commerce.  Fifteen  years  ago  Germany 
ranked  fourth  among  the  commercial  powers,  and 
gave  precedence  to  England,  France,  and  the  United 
States.  To-day,  whilst  France  has  sunk  from  the 
second  to  the  fourth  place,  Germany,  outstripping 
both  France  and  the  United  States,  has  won  the 
second  place.  The  sum-total  of  her  commerce  rose, 
in  1905,  to  12'7  thousand  millions  of  marks,  of  which 
seven  consisted  of  imports  and  5*7  thousand  millions 
of  exports.1  She  is  even  threatening  the  traditional 
commercial  supremacy  of  England.  The  gross  value 
of  her  industrial  productions  is  estimated,  according 
to  American  statistics,  at  over  2,900  millions  of 
dollars,  which  is  650  millions  above  that  of  France 
(2,245  millions)  and  inferior  only  to  that  of  England 
(4,100  millions)  and  the  United  States  (7,000  millions). 

1  The    corresponding    figures    are:     England    19"3,    the    United 
States  11 '8,  and  France  7'6  thousand  millions  of  marks. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  EFFECTS  OF  THE  SYSTEM  OF  ENTERPRISE 
UPON  THE  OLD  FORMS  OF  INDUSTRY 


After  having  described  the  system  of  capitalistic 
enterprise,  and  depicted  its  chief  manifestations,  we 
must  now  consider  how  it  has  modified  the  old  forms 
of  economic  activity,  domestic  industry,  the  crafts- 
man's work,  and  agricultural  life. 

The  importance  from  the  earliest  times  until  quite 
recently  of  home  industries  among  rural  populations 
is  well  known.  Until  about  the  middle  of  the  last 
century,  the  German  peasant  differed  very  little  from 
his  prototype  of  ancient  days,  who,  with  the  help  of 
his  household,  was  almost  entirely  self-supporting. 
Even  when  the  nineteenth  century  was  in  full  swing, 
the  German  peasant  did  not  limit  himself  to  pro- 
ducing the  simple  necessities  of  life,  but,  in  addition, 
utilised  his  leisure  moments  to  fashion  for  himself 
the  various  things  he  required.  He  was  his  own 
baker  and  his  own  butcher.  He  used  to  spin  and 
weave  the  wool  or  the  flax  required  for  his  clothes 
and  linen.  He  was  able  to  build  and  repair  his  own 
house  with  its  wooden  framework,  its  loam-coated 
walls,  and  its  thatched  roof,  and  was  enough  of  a 
blacksmith  and  wheelwright,  if  occasion  demanded,  to 
make  and  keep  in  repair  his  agricultural  implements 

18 


EFFECTS  UPON  INDUSTRY  19 

and  carts  of  all  kinds.  When  he  was  not  in  a  position 
to  make  what  he  wanted  himself,  he  had  recourse  to 
the  help  of  workmen  and  tradespeople — the  tailor, 
the  cobbler,  the  carpenter — whom  he  generally  had 
to  work  under  his  own  supervision  in  his  own  house. 
Only  in  very  exceptional  circumstances  was  he 
obliged  to  turn  to  outside  aid  and  buy  in  the  market 
or  the  town  articles  or  provisions  which  he  was 
unable  to  produce  by  his  own  industry.  Generally 
speaking,  the  peasant  was  still  able  to  supply  himself 
with  all  the  essentials  he  required,  and  he  was  almost 
entirely  independent  of  the  fluctuation  of  prices  or 
the  working  of  the  law  of  supply  and  demand. 

During  the  second  half  of  the  century,  this 
patriarchal  state  of  things  underwent  a  rapid  modifi- 
cation. Workers  confined  themselves  more  and  more 
exclusively  to  one  speciality  and  produced  this,  no 
longer  merely  for  their  own  use,  but  for  the  market, 
and  with  the  proceeds  bought  the  various  neces- 
sities of  life.  Political  economists  quote  as  a  typical 
example  the  case  of  the  peasant  woman  of  Hagsfeld, 
in  the  province  of  Baden,  who  declared  she  no  longer 
even  had  the  time  to  do  the  family  washing  herself  at 
home,  but  sent  it  to  the  steam-laundry  at  Karlsruhe. 
It  is  true  that  every  German  housewife  has  not  yet 
come  to  such  a  pass,  and  in  many  of  the  rural  dis- 
tricts, both  urban  and  rural,  domestic  work  is  held  in 
high  esteem.  Nevertheless,  it  plays,  on  the  whole,  an 
ever  smaller  part  in  the  economic  life  of  the  middle- 
classes  and  peasantry.  If  industry  on  a  large  scale 
has  reached  ever-increasing  dimensions,  and  if  the 
proportion  of  the  population  engaged  in  industrial 
pursuits  has  grown  enormously  during  the  course  of 
the  last  century,  one  of  the  chief  reasons  for  this 
development   is  to  be    found    precisely   in  the   dis- 


20  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

appearance  of  domestic  work.  Articles  once  made  in 
leisure  hours  round  the  family  hearth  are  to-day 
manufactured  wholesale  by  specialists.  Consequently, 
the  apparently  prodigious  growth  of  industry  can  be 
at  least  partially  explained  by  the  gradual  specialisa- 
tion of  economic  activity.  The  peasant  confined 
himself  more  and  more  rigorously  to  purely  agri- 
cultural pursuits  ;  he  gave  up  home  industry  and 
supplied  his  wants  in  this  sphere,  by  means  of  an 
ever-increasing  class  of  industrial  craftsmen  who  had 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  agriculture. 

Where  home  industry  still  survived,  it  completely 
changed  in  character,  owing  to  a  series  of  consecutive 
transformations.  The  peasant  who  used  to  employ 
the  leisure  moments  which  his  work  in  the  fields 
allowed  him,  in  the  exercise  of  some  supplementary 
trade  worked  for  himself  and  not  with  the  object 
of  selling  his  goods  to  the  general  public.  Little  by 
little,  however,  we  find  him  labouring  with  an  eye 
to  the  market.  He  joined  some  friends  in  working 
a  mine  ;  he  became  a  weaver  or  a  worker  in  metal  or 
wood.  He  thus  turned  into  an  industrial  worker  on 
a  small  scale  and  circulated  his  wares  by  means  of 
pedlars.  Then  his  condition  changed  ;  from  being  an 
independent  craftsman  he  gradually  sank  to  a  posi- 
tion of  dependence  upon  the  big  town  merchant  from 
whom  he  received  his  raw  material  and  the  implements 
necessary  for  his  work.  He  thus,  in  fact,  became 
simply  the  paid  servant  of  a  master,  who  found  it 
profitable  to  allow  his  employees  to  work  at  home 
instead  of  collecting  them  into  shops  and  factories. 
The  craftsman,  moreover,  was  at  first  protected  to  a 
certain  extent  by  the  State,  which  subjected  the 
employers  to  the  minutest  regulations  of  an  officious 
fiscal  legislation,  exercised  a  strict  supervision  ever 


EFFECTS    UPON    INDUSTRY  21 

them,  and  prevented  them  from  sweating  their  under- 
lings. This  form  of  home  industry  was  fairly 
nourishing  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

In  the  mountainous  and  barren  districts  of  Central 
Germany,  and  especially  in  Silesia,  the  Erzgebirge, 
the  Frankenwald,  the  Hartz  Mountains,  and  West- 
phalia, a  large  part  of  the  population  was  engaged 
in  the  textile  industry.  But  this  form  of  home 
industry  was  also  condemned  to  disappear  before  the 
progress  of  industry  on  a  large  scale.  It  was  im- 
possible for  the  single  craftsman  who  carried  on  his 
trade  by  hand  to  compete  with  mechanical  work 
produced  by  the  help  of  machinery  and  by  workers 
collected  in  a  factory.  In  order  to  meet  this  crush- 
ing competition,  the  contractors,  who  gradually 
freed  themselves  from  State  supervision,  had  no 
alternative  but  to  reduce  the  salaries  of  their 
work-people,  whom  they  thereby  condemned  to  the 
direst  poverty  and  sometimes  even  to  the  horrors 
of  starvation.  Every  one  has  heard  of  the  terrible 
straits  to  which  the  Silesian  workers  found  them- 
selves reduced  during  the  'forties,  and  their  sufferings 
and  revolts  have  been  immortalised  by  Gerhard 
Hauptmann  in  his  famous  play  The  Weavers.  The 
final  result  was  almost  always  the  disappearance  of 
home  industry.  In  every  case  where  it  had  once 
existed — in  the  mining  and  textile  industries  and  in 
various  minor  branches  of  the  metal  industry — whole- 
sale manufacture,  concentrated  in  a  mill  or  factory, 
gained  the  upper  hand  once  for  all. 

Whilst  home  industry  thus  died  out  more  and 
more  completely  in  the  rural  districts,  we  find  it,  on 
the  other  hand,  reviving  under  a  new  form  in  the 
large  towns,  such  as  Berlin  and  Stettin,  Frankfort, 
Nuremberg    and    Stuttgart,    Munich    and    Barmen- 


22  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Elberfeld.  In  these  places,  during  the  second  half 
of  the  century,  a  flourishing  industry  sprang  up  for 
the  production  of  clothes  and  linen.  These  industries 
are  now  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  a  few  great 
firms,  who  employ  a  large  number  of  hands  working 
either  at  home  or  in  small  workshops  under  the 
supervision  of  sub-contractors.  But  we  all  know  the 
price  paid  for  this  prosperity  and  the  ludicrous 
salaries  which  the  large  manufacturers  and  their 
middlemen  can  impose  upon  the  unfortunate  men 
and  women  whom  they  sweat  and  condemn  only  too 
often  to  poverty  or  prostitution.  Home  work,  which 
is  so  difficult  to  supervise  or  regulate,  thus  entails 
the  most  glaring  abuses,  and  its  history  in  every 
country  is,  without  a  doubt,  one  of  the  most  shocking 
chapters  in  the  evolution  of  capitalism. 


II 

Just  as  the  growth  of  capitalism  proved  fatal 
to  home  industry,  it  also  completely  destroyed  the 
"  trades  "  guilds. 

The  old-fashioned  "  master  "  was  a  sort  of  manu- 
facturer on  a  small  scale,  who  combined  in  his  own 
person  the  functions  of  capitalist,  employer,  qualified 
craftsman,  and  tradesman.  He  was  an  independent 
producer,  who  worked  on  his  own  account,  together 
with  the  members  of  his  family  and  a  few  journey- 
men and  apprentices,  who  formed  part  of  his  house- 
hold. Under  these  conditions  his  ambition  could 
not  soar  very  high.  He  did  not  aspire  to  extend  his 
sphere  of  action  indefinitely  or  to  exploit  his  under- 
lings unduly.  Moreover,  the  guild  system,  which  still 
survived  in  rough  outline  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  would  not  have  allowed  him  to 


EFFECTS    UPON    INDUSTRY  23 

develop  his  business  beyond  certain  limits.  This 
system  had  the  effect,  in  short,  of  securing  to  each 
master  a  sphere  of  activity  in  which  he  was  scarcely 
troubled  at  all  by  outside  competition,  but  which, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  himself  could  not  extend.  By 
establishing  in  every  town  a  sort  of  monopoly  in 
favour  of  the  masters,  by  limiting  the  number  of 
masters  in  each  district,  by  forbidding  the  cornering 
of  raw  material,  by  defining  the  number  of  journey- 
men and  apprentices  which  each  master  might 
employ,  and  by  punishing  the  diversion  of  custom, 
it  protected  the  "  master  "  against  the  competition 
of  outside  rivals  or  of  his  fellow  guildsmen  in  the 
same  town,  whilst  at  the  same  time  it  prevented  him 
from  raising  himself  above  a  very  modest  pinnacle  of 
prosperity. 

The  guild  system,  which  was  fast  falling  into  decay 
at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  disappeared  com- 
pletely about  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  first  crisis  took  place  during  the  'forties.     The 
old  regulations  gradually  fell  to  pieces.     Complaints 
grew   louder   on   every   side  :     the   apprentices   and 
journeymen  rebelled  against  the  guild  rules,  and  the 
limits  assigned  to  each  guild  in  the  division  of  labour 
were    no    longer    regarded ;     everywhere    privateers 
(Bonhasen)   sprang   into   existence,   and   were,   as   a 
rule,  not  prosecuted.     In  vain  did  the  labour  parlia- 
ment which  met  at  Frankfort  in  1848,  side  by  side 
with   the   national    parliament    (middle   of   July   to 
middle  of  August  1848),  protest  at  its  first  session 
against  industrial   freedom — in  vain  did  it  demand 
the  restoration  of  the  guild  regulations  of  the  Middle 
Ages.     The  tide  which  was  hurrying  the  whole  epoch 
towards  a  system  of  unrestricted  competition  could 
not  be  stemmed.     The  old  order  crumbled  away  in 


24  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

spite  of  the  fruitless  efforts  of  legislators  to  save  it. 
The  whole  of  the  labouring  class,  the  whole  of  that 
lower  middle  class,  which  had  been  so  modest,  hard- 
working, thrifty,  and  respectful  of  tradition,  saw  the 
customs  of  centuries  swept  away,  and  was  violently 
shaken  by  a  crisis  which  attacked  the  very  founda- 
tions of  its  existence.  The  masters,  the  most  am- 
bitious and  the  most  easy-going  alike,  tried  harder 
every  day  to  free  themselves  from  the  guild  regula- 
tions. They  accepted  the  system  of  competition, 
increased  the  number  of  their  apprentices  and 
journeymen,  introduced  division  of  labour,  created 
specialisation,  and  organised  their  system  of  employ- 
ment to  the  best  advantage  without  regard  for  old 
customs.  In  short,  they  became  small  contractors, 
made  a  position  for  themselves  in  the  new  order  of 
society,  and  succeeded,  thanks  to  their  activity  and 
business  instinct,  in  maintaining  their  economic 
activity.  Those  of  a  less  energetic  frame  of  mind 
clung  to  the  old  routine,  and  were  hurried  more  or 
less  speedily  to  final  disaster,  in  the  midst  of  fruitless 
lamentations  over  the  bad  times,  the  decay  of  the 
old  customs  and  ancient  privileges.  Many  lost 
heart,  gave  up  business,  and  became  petty  officials, 
or  found  employment  on  the  railways  or  in  some 
industrial  or  commercial  enterprise.  Others,  more 
particularly  in  Swabia  and  the  Palatinate,  emigrated 
in  large  numbers,  and  went  to  seek  their  fortunes 
beyond  the  seas,  especially  in  South  and  South- West 
America.  And  lastly,  many  who  were  less  enter- 
prising, were  content  to  leave  town  for  the  country, 
where,  in  spite  of  the  jeers  of  their  urban  brethren, 
they  ended  by  taking  root  and  making  a  suitable 
position  for  themselves.  The  artisan  and  craftsman 
class,  transformed  in  this  way  by  the  influence  of  the 


EFFECTS    UPON    INDUSTRY  25 

spirit  of  enterprise,  roughly  maintained  its  position 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  longer. 

Nevertheless,  about  1880  there  began  to  be  dis- 
cerned the  indications  of  a  fresh  crisis,  which  was 
more  terrible  and  severe  than  the  first,  and  threatened 
to  deprive  workers  once  for  all  of  the  last  vestiges 
of  economic  independence.  This  crisis  was  not,  like 
the  first  one,  caused  by  the  entrance  of  new  psychic 
elements  into  the  working  class — it  was  due  to  the 
crushing  competition  which  the  single  worker  in 
every  branch  of  economic  activity  had  to  meet  on 
the  part  of  colossal  industrial  enterprises. 

In  short,  wholesale  production,  concentrated  in  a 
factory  or  a  mill,   established  its  superiority  more 
and    more    firmly    every    day,   and    steadily  gained 
ground.     In    every    domain    and    every    branch    of 
human  industry,  the  small  producer  and  the  inde- 
pendent craftsman  found  themselves  gradually  wiped 
out  by  the  very  force  of  circumstances.     The  retreat 
from  the  old  position  was  manifested  everywhere, 
not  only  in  the  large  and  small  towns,  but  even  in 
the  country,  where  the  peasant  grew  more  and  more 
accustomed    to    buying    cheap    ready-made    articles 
supplied  him  by  large  firms.     Every  profession  found 
itself  faced  by  a  similar  menace.     The  progress  of 
colossal   industries  was  not  equally   swift  in  every 
department  :  it  was  rather  more  rapid  in  the  clothing 
industry,  for  example,  and  in  furniture ;   somewhat 
slower  in  food  stuffs  and  the  building  trade.     But 
there  is  nothing  to  show  that  this  process  will  end 
before  it  has  secured  the  triumph  of  capitalism  at 
every  point. 

Practically  speaking,  craftsmen  belonging  to  nearly 
every  kind  of  trade — carpenters,  cobblers,  tailors, 
masons,  thatchers,  etc. — had  already  fallen  under  the 


26  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

more  or  less  disguised  dominion  of  some  capitalistic 
contractor,  and  were  thus  really  in  a  position  quite 
as  dependent  as  that  of  the  factory  hand,  although 
nominally  they  were  still  free.     Thus  builders  were 
dependent  on  the  contractor  who  could  provide  them 
with   work,    carpenters   were   at   the   mercy   of   the 
furniture  dealer,  who  bought  the  articles  they  made 
at  a  low  price,  and  tailors  depended  upon  the  clothier 
who    gave    them    orders.     In    the    most    favourable 
circumstances,  the  worker  could  become  a  capitalist 
on  a  small  scale — a  sort  of  cross  between  the  old 
master  and  the  wholesale  manufacturer  ;   he  could 
still  earn  an  honest  livelihood  as  a  baker,  a  butcher, 
a  bespoke  tailor,  a  locksmith,  a  cabinet-maker,  etc. 
But  he  always  ended  by  having  to  face  the  competi- 
tion of  large  industries.     Sometimes  these  entirely 
monopolised  the  production  of  an  article  and  only 
left  repairs  to  craftsmen  (as  in  the  bootmaking  trade). 
Sometimes  they  produced  nearly  every  article  and 
only  left  to  the  craftsmen  installations,  alterations, 
and  repairs  (the  locksmith's  trade).     Sometimes  they 
monopolised   the   production  of   certain   articles   in 
such  a  way  that  they  were  made  partly  in  the  factory 
and  partly  in  the  shop  or  by  hand  (joinery).     Lastly, 
they    sometimes    appropriated    to    themselves    the 
fabrication  of  a  small  number  of  special  articles  and 
allowed  the  old  arrangements  to  continue  more  or 
less  as  before  (butchers  and  bakers). 

On  the  whole,  the  class  of  independent  craftsmen 
was  rapidly  dying  out.  It  is  true  that  according  to 
statistics  there  was  still  an  aggregate  of  about  two 
million  craftsmen.  It  is  also  true  that  there  was  even 
an  absolute  increase  in  their  number  ;  thus,  between 
1834  and  1895  the  number  of  craftsmen  in  Prussia 
showed    an   increase   of    nearly   450,000.       But   the 


EFFECTS    UPON    INDUSTRY  27 

number  of  craftsmen  in  proportion  to  the  total  popula- 
tion seems  to  have  diminished  a  little — in  Prussia  it 
dropped,  during  the  period  above  mentioned,  from 
4*1  per  cent,  to  3*7  per  cent.  ;  whilst  in  social  im- 
portance the  working  class  fell  much  lower  than 
statistics  can  show.  The  craftsman,  who  was  once  a 
free  agent,  was  now  only  free  in  name,  and  his  con- 
dition, except  in  rare  cases,  differed  very  little  from 
that  of  the  ordinary  member  of  the  masses. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    EFFECT    OF    CAPITALISTIC    ENTERPRISE 
UPON    AGRICULTURE 

The  effect  which  the  rise  of  the  spirit  of  enterprise 
had  upon  the  development  of  German  agriculture  is 
far  less  striking  than  that  produced  in  the  domain 
of  industry  during  the  same  lapse  of  time.     It  has 
even  been  pointed  out  that,  superficially,  Germany, 
judging  from  the  distribution  of  agrarian  property, 
changed  very  little  during  the  last  century.     About 
1800  there  existed,   and  still  exist  to  this  day,  dis- 
tricts where  large  estates  predominated  (the  country 
east  of  the  Elbe),  others  where  there  were  large  num- 
bers   of    peasant    proprietors    (Schleswig,    Hanover, 
Westphalia,     Brunswick),     and    yet    others    where 
moderate-sized  and  small  estates  were  the  rule  (the 
region  south-west  of  the  valley  of  the  Rhine).    More- 
over, the  most  varied  types  of  undertakings  subsisted 
peacefully    side    by    side,    without    any    particular 
one   showing  signs  of  definitely  gaining  the  upper- 
hand  in  the  near  future.     But  it  was  none  the  less 
certain  that   German  agriculture   had  undergone   a 
series   of   fundamental   internal   transformations,    of 
which  I  will  endeavour  to  trace  the  principal  features. 
In  the  first  place,  agricultural   products   had  in- 
creased enormously.     This  result  was  due  chiefly  to 
the  fact  that  the  surface  of  the  ground  had  been  more 

28 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         29 

fully  utilised  since  the  development  of  husbandry, 
which  had  considerably  reduced  pasture  and  fallow 
land.  In  this  connection,  it  is  estimated  that  the 
ground  occupied  by  fields  and  gardens  was  a  quarter, 
perhaps  even  a  third,  as  much  again  as  it  was  during 
the  previous  century.  This,  however,  was  due 
principally  to  the  perfection  reached  in  technical 
processes.  Scientific  knowledge  about  the  conditions 
necessary  for  the  growth  of  vegetable  produce,  and 
especially  the  great  discoveries  of  Liebig  in  the 
domain  of  agricultural  chemistry,  had  the  result  of 
substituting  rational  methods  for  the  old  rules-of- 
thumb.  The  old  plan  of  triennial  distribution  gave 
way  to  that  of  the  rotation  of  crops,  which  in  its  turn 
was  supplanted  by  the  system  of  intensive  cultiva- 
tion through  the  aid  of  chemical  manures.  The  old 
primitive  instruments  used  by  the  peasants  in  the 
Middle  Ages  were  gradually  replaced  by  complicated 
agricultural  machines  of  all  kinds — steam  ploughs 
and  engines  for  sowing,  weeding,  and  thrashing — 
whose  numbers  multiplied  particularly  rapidly  after 
about  1880.  The  culture  of  paying  crops  was 
developed  at  the  expense  of  those  which  were  less 
remunerative.  Side  by  side  with  agricultural  con- 
cerns, factories  sprang  up,  where  the  products  of 
the  soil  underwent  a  transformation  into  industrial 
commodities  :  the  beetroot  grower,  for  instance,  be- 
came a  sugar-refiner  as  well,  the  potato  planter  a 
distiller.  The  methods  of  afforestation  and  the  rear- 
ing of  cattle  were  gradually  brought  to  perfection, 
and  the  results  obtained  became  every  day  more 
fruitful.  The  output  per  acre  continued  to  increase. 
The  number  of  head  of  cattle  of  all  kinds  grew  to 
considerable  proportions,  the  stock  was  improved, 
and  the  average  weight  of  the  animals  went  up.     In 


30     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

short,  it  is  estimated  that  the  sum-total  of  agricul- 
tural production  has  increased  at  least  two,  if  not 
threefold,  during  the  last  hundred  years.  As,  more- 
over, the  number  of  rural  labourers  has  not  multiplied 
in  similar  proportions,  it  seems  evident  that,  owing 
to  the  progress  made  in  technical  processes,  the  pro- 
ductivity of  agricultural  labour  has  increased  enor- 
mously during  the  last  century.  It  is  not  possible, 
however,  yet  to  decide  to  what  extent  it  has  done 
so,  or  whether  at  the  present  time  this  capacity  for 
production  is  tending  to  increase  or  diminish,  and 
whether,  therefore,  the  working  of  the  law  of  the 
gradual  exhaustion  of  the  soil  is  making  itself  felt 
in  Germany  or  not. 

But  if,  both  in  agriculture  and  industry,  we  find 
that  progress  has  been  based  upon  the  employment 
of  more  rational  technical  processes,  their  respective 
modes  of  development  are  nevertheless  exceedingly 
different.  Whilst  in  industry,  as  we  have  pointed 
out,  capital  became  concentrated  in  ever  more  colossal 
enterprises,  this  law  did  not  make  its  action  felt  in 
the  domain  of  agriculture,  where  we  do  not  find  that 
large  enterprises  tend  to  expand  indefinitely.  On 
the  contrary,  they  seldom  reach  more  than  modest 
dimensions,  and  cultivated  properties  of  over  2,500 
acres  are  the  rarest  exceptions.  Neither  do  we 
observe  that  small  or  moderate-sized  concerns  are 
fatally  inferior  to  the  large  ones.  Not  only  do  the 
former  survive,  but  a  diminution — very  slight,  it  is 
true — in  large  properties  may  even  be  discerned. 
Moreover,  we  do  not  see  in  agricultural  enterprises 
that  tendency  towards  specialisation  which  is  so 
characteristic  of  industry.  On  the  contrary,  it  would 
seem  that  to-day  a  greater  variety  of  produce  is 
obtained  by  any  one  concern  than  was  the  case  a 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE  31 

hundred  years  ago.  It  is  impossible  to  hold  the 
theory  that  the  capitalist  who  works  a  large  estate 
can  produce  more  cheaply  than  the  ordinary  culti- 
vator, and  that  wholesale  production  is  consequently 
an  economic  necessity  in  agriculture.  It  is,  there- 
fore, incorrect  to  say  that  just  as  small  industries 
are  stifled  by  large  ones,  the  peasant,  finding  it  im- 
possible to  struggle  against  the  competition  of  great 
landed  proprietors,  is  hastening  to  irretrievable 
disaster. 

Nevertheless,  the  new  spirit  shows  itself  in  agri- 
cultural life  as  well,  by  a  series  of  characteristic 
symptoms. 

The  most  important  of  these  is  the  revolution  which 
took  place  during  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  in  the  management  of  agrarian  property,  by 
which  private  cultivation  was  substituted  for  col- 
lective cultivation. 

About  1800  a  country  village  was  still  a  sort  of 
collectivist  settlement.  Each  peasant  or  member  of 
the  community  was  given  a  Hufe,  or  privilege  of 
having  a  share  in  the  general  possessions  of  the  village, 
such  as  cultivated  land,  rivers  and  ponds,  roads  and 
lanes,  meadow-lands  and  forests.  By  virtue  of  this 
principle,  every  member  of  the  association  had  the 
right  to  possess  property  enough  to  employ  his  own 
activity  and  to  draw  from  it  the  products  necessary 
for  the  sustenance  of  himself  and  his  family.  The 
Hufe  thus  included  :  a  farm  and  its  appurtenances, 
which  was  the  private  property  of  the  peasant ;  the 
right  of  using  the  unapportioned  part  of  thecommonty, 
or  Allmende,  as  it  was  called  ;  and  lastly  a  certain 
amount  of  arable  land.  But  this  arable  land  was 
never  leased  to  one  man  alone.  At  the  time  when 
the  village  was  founded,   the  total  area   of  arable 


32  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

land  (Flur)  had  been  divided  up  into  a  certain 
number  of  sections — thirty  to  forty — each  containing 
ground  of  about  the  same  quality  ;  and  in  each 
of  these  sections  every  peasant  family  had  been 
allotted  a  Morgen  or  Jock — that  is  to  say,  as  much 
land  as  a  yoke  of  oxen  could  plough  in  one  morning. 
Under  these  circumstances,  and  in  spite  of  the  modifi- 
cations which  had  taken  place,  the  arable  land 
belonging  to  a  village  was  still,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  divided  into  hundreds,  and 
sometimes  thousands,  of  allotments,  and  each  peasant 
owned  a  large  number  of  these  plots  scattered  over 
the  whole  territory  of  the  village.  Now,  this  parti- 
tion of  arable  land  (Gemengelage)  necessarily  resulted 
in  a  collective  system  of  cultivation.  As  the  allot- 
ments were  all  mixed  up  together,  and  an  owner  had 
no  means  of  access  to  his  property  except  through 
his  neighbour's  field,  the  entire  area  of  cultivation 
was  worked  according  to  a  plan  laid  down  by  the 
elders  of  the  village.  By  the  law  of  Flurzwang  each 
peasant  was  bound  to  grow  a  particular  plant  in  a 
given  piece  of  land,  and  to  begin  to  till  the  ground 
or  to  gather  in  the  harvest  at  fixed  dates.  In  short, 
his  right  to  possess  the  land  he  cultivated  was  defined 
by  a  series  of  exceedingly  strict  obligations  which 
prevented  him  from  organising  the  culture  of  his 
property  as  he  liked,  and  subjected  him,  on  a  large 
number  of  points,  to  the  decisions  of  the  whole 
community. 

Nevertheless,  the  peasant,  in  the  course  of  cen- 
turies, nearly  always  fell  into  economic  or  social 
dependence  upon  the  overlord  or  large  landowner. 
This  dependence  was  represented,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  by  two  kinds  of  obliga- 
tions.    The  peasant  paid  rent,  either  in  money  or 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         33 

in  kind,  to  the  overlord,  in  his  capacity  as  master  of 
the  soil  (Grundherr).  In  districts  where  this  was  the 
only  imposition,  nothing  was  altered  in  the  typical 
organisation  of  the  village  which  has  already  been 
described.  Secondly,  the  peasant  was  bound  to  give 
his  lord,  in  his  capacity  as  owner  of  the  domain, 
gratuitous  labour  for  the  cultivation  of  his  private 
property  (Frondienst).  In  such  cases,  the  overlord 
was  the  owner  of  pieces  of  land  scattered  about  in 
the  midst  of  those  belonging  to  his  peasants  or 
tenants,  who  were  bound  to  cultivate,  in  addition  to 
their  own  fields,  the  plots  belonging  to  the  lord. 
Agricultural  labour  was  managed,  through  the  whole 
area  of  cultivation,  by  the  head  of  the  rural  com- 
munity— the  Schulze — who  was  the  lord's  agent.  The 
rights  which  the  tenant  had  over  his  land  were 
consequently  quite  precarious,  and  the  overlord 
practically  considered  himself  the  co-proprietor  of  all 
rural  holdings.  Though  he  no  longer  had  the  power 
of  appropriating  the  land  of  the  peasants  to  his  own 
use,  nor  of  allowing  his  fields  to  lie  fallow,  he  still, 
at  least,  possessed  the  right  of  replacing  one  tenant 
by  another,  and  consequently  of  turning  a  peasant 
out  of  his  holding,  of  transferring  him  to  another 
holding  which  was  either  better  or  worse  than  the 
old  one,  or  even  of  reducing  him  to  the  position  of  a 
day  labourer.  Bound  by  the  system  of  forced  labour, 
chained  to  the  soil  by  the  prohibition  to  leave  his 
lord's  territory  without  the  consent  of  his  master, 
without  any  right  of  appeal  against  the  arbitrary 
will  of  the  overlord  and  his  agents,  the  peasant,  under 
these  circumstances,  was  nothing  more  than  a  hard- 
worked  beast  of  burden,  who  would  have  made  good 
his  escape  if  he  had  not  been  bound  to  the  land  by 
the  ties  of  serfdom. 
3 


34     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Now  the  liquidation  of  feudal  property  took  place 
throughout  Germany  during  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  The  process  varied  in  rapidity 
and  thoroughness  in  different  districts.  It  began,  as 
a  rule,  during  the  first  few  years  of  the  century,  only 
to  be  completed  after  the  revolution  of  1848  under 
the  pressure  of  new  economic  and  social  conditions.1 
But  everywhere  it  had  the  definite  result  of  emanci- 
pating the  peasant  from  the  control  of  the  overlord, 
or  of  the  rural  community,  and  making  him  the 
absolute  and  independent  owner  of  his  own  property. 
Let  us  examine  a  little  more  closely  the  consequences 
of  this  change  for  the  landlord  and  the  peasant. 

As  far  as  the  large  landowner  was  concerned,  the 
transition  from  the  old  order  of  things  to  the  new 
was  carried  out  without  much  difficulty.  The  owner 
of  ancestral  estates  had  long  before  1800  become  a 
commercial  man  who  ran  his  estate  by  means  of  the 
unpaid  work  provided  by  forced  labour.  It  is  true 
that  the  agrarian  reforms  deprived  him  of  gratuitous 
labour.  But,  in  the  first  place,  he  received  a  large 
compensation  in  kind,  either  in  land  or  in  money 
paid  for  the  redemption  of  taxes,  forced  labour  and 
liabilities,  in  consideration  of  which  he  consented  to 
give  to  the  peasants  the  liberty  of  which  he  had 
formerly  deprived  them  without  indemnity.  Secondly, 
he  was  not  slow  to  discover  that  free  labour,  on  the 
whole,  was  a  good  exchange  for  the  old  forced  labour 
he  had  had  the  right  to  demand  from  his  tenants. 

1  In  Prussia  there  were  four  distinct  stages  in  this  process  of 
liquidation:  First,  Stein's  edict  of  October  7,  1807,  abolishing 
serfdom ;  second,  Hardenberg's  Regulirungsedikt  and  Landes- 
kulturedikt  of  September  14,  1811  ;  third,  the  Oemeinheitsteilungs- 
ordnung  of  July  7,  1821  ;  and  fourth,  the  edict  of  March  2,  1850, 
which  once  more  set  in  motion  the  reforms  which  had  been  stopped 
by  the  opposition  of  those  whom  they  hit. 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         35 

It  is  true  that  he  had  to  pay  for  it,  which  he  had  not 
done  before.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  got  more 
profitable  work  ;  as  early  as  1809  Thaer  calculated 
that  two  free  labourers  did  as  much  work  as  three 
forced  ones.  Moreover,  once  their  wages  were  paid, 
the  master  was  free  from  all  responsibility  towards 
them,  and  did  not  have  to  trouble  his  head  about 
procuring  them  a  livelihood.  So  that,  under  the 
new  system,  it  was  possible  for  him,  when  work  was 
pressing,  to  hire  a  whole  army  of  labourers,  whom 
he  could  dismiss  at  a  moment's  notice  without  having 
to  consider  what  would  become  of  them  when  he 
no  longer  required  their  services. 

The  liquidation  of  feudal  estates  under  these  cir- 
cumstances only  had  the  result  of  developing  among 
the  landowners  a  class  of  capitalistic  contractors. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  a  land- 
owner did  not  regard  his  property  merely  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  profit  he  could  derive  from  it. 
He  saw  in  it  the  hereditary  cradle  of  his  race  and 
the  basis  of  his  social  power,  as  well  as  the  source 
of  his  competency.  His  "primary  object  was  to  get 
from  the  land  the  products  necessary  for  the  susten- 
ance of  himself,  his  family,  and  his  tenants  ;  only 
after  this  had  been  secured  did  he  aim  at  a  surplus 
destined  for  sale  and  to  bring  in  money.  Now  every- 
thing changed.  In  the  first  place,  the  large  land- 
owner is  not  necessarily  of  noble  birth.  Whilst 
at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  no  burgess 
was  allowed  to  possess  titled  property,  it  is  an 
ascertained  fact  that  about  1800,  in  the  eastern  pro- 
vinces of  Prussia  alone,  7,086  estates  out  of  11,065 
belonged  to  commoners  who  could  only  have  acquired 
them  by  the  payment  of  money.  In  the  second 
place,    the    landed    proprietor,    when    he    lost    his 


36  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

seigniorial  rights,  ceased  to  have  any  jurisdiction 
over  his  people,  and,  consequently,  found  himself  in 
the  same  position  with  regard  to  the  labourers  he 
hired  as  the  manufacturer  was  in  respect  to  his 
workmen.  The  natural  tie  which  once  united  the 
overlord  to  his  property  was  thus  considerably 
weakened.  The  modern  landlord  came  to  regard  his 
estate  more  and  more  as  a  source  of  revenue,  as 
capital  which  should  be  rationally  exploited  and  the 
highest  possible  rate  of  interest  secured — property 
which  could  be  leased  to  a  farmer  in  order  to  avoid 
the  trouble  of  personal  administration,  or  sold  to 
a  new  owner  as  soon  as  a  favourable  opportunity 
occurred.  If,  in  spite  of  all,  the  remembrance  of  the 
old  order  has  survived  even  in  our  own  day  ;  if  a 
few  old  titled  estates  are  still  managed  as  they  were 
in  patriarchal  times,  and  if  in  many  cases  the  change 
to  capitalism  has  been  far  from  complete,  many 
landowners,  on  the  other  hand,  have  become  true 
business  men,  who  have  deposit  accounts  at  the 
Reichsbank,  keep  their  books  as  accurately  as  a 
trading  firm,  and  administer  their  domains  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  of  a  rational  utilitarianism  which 
is  utterly  devoid  of  all  sentiment. 

As  far  as  the  peasant  was  concerned,  agrarian  reform 
meant  emancipation  either  from  the  dominion  of  the 
overlord  or  from  that  of  the  village  community.  On 
the  one  hand,  the  tenant  became,  on  the  payment  of 
rent,  the  owner  of  his  own  farm  and  free  to  dispose 
of  his  property  and  his  person  as  he  pleased  ;  whilst 
the  peasant,  on  the  other,  was  liberated  from  his 
obligations  to  the  village  community.  The  All- 
menden  were  divided  among  those  who  had  a  claim 
to  them  ;  the  rights  of  usage  were  redeemed  ;  the 
Gemengelage    was    abolished    by    consolidating    the 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         37 

various  allotments  belonging  to  one  owner  into  the 
property  of  a  single  tenant  or  into  a  small  number 
of  fair-sized  plots.  Thus  we  find  the  revival  of  the 
primitive  system  of  a  class  of  peasant  proprietors 
free  from  all  seigniorial  or  municipal  control,  at 
liberty  to  manage  as  they  please  and  on  their  own 
responsibility  the  property  which  they  possess  in 
their  own  persons  and  share  with  no  one.  What  is 
the  result  of  this  transformation  for  the  rural  popu- 
lation ? 

The  individualisation  of  property  has,  without  a 
doubt,  been  a  good  thing  for  the  intelligent  and  in- 
dustrious peasant.  It  has  allowed  him  to  free  him- 
self from  routine,  to  get  the  best  he  can  out  of  his 
property,  to  derive  advantage  from  the  progress  of 
technical  science  in  agriculture — in  short,  to  become 
a  contractor  on  a  small  scale.  And  as  the  redemption 
of  rights  of  usage  put  him  in  possession  of  a  little 
capital,  he  found  himself  able  to  make  some  necessary 
improvements  in  his  land.  The  bound  made  by 
German  agriculture  during  the  nineteenth  century, 
the  large  increase  in  the  output  of  the  soil,  and  the 
rapid  growth  of  population  prove  that  the  liquida- 
tion of  feudal  property  really  provided  the  means  of 
progress  for  at  least  one  section  of  the  peasant  class. 

For  others,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  practically  disas- 
trous. The  small  tenant,  who  was  only  allotted  a 
little  bit  of  land  not  large  enough  to  provide  him 
with  a  livelihood,  and  the  incapable  or  unlucky  peasant 
who  did  not  succeed  in  managing  his  property  well, 
found  themselves  much  worse  off.  The  destruction 
of  the  strong  tie  which  once  bound  the  inhabitants 
of  a  village  to  each  other,  or  the  tenants  to  their 
landlords,  had  the  effect  of  exposing  every  day  to 
the  most  rigorous  consequences  of  the  law  of  com- 


38     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

petition  a  number  of  poor  people  for  whom  it  was 
impossible  to  be  self-supporting  by  their  own  unaided 
efforts. 

It  is  true  that  the  peasant,  unlike  the  small  shop- 
keeper or  industrial  worker,  did  not  toil  merely  with 
the  object  of  selling  his  goods,  but  to  a  large  extent 
with  a  view  to  his  own  needs.     He  thus  to  some 
degree  escaped  the  most  disastrous  results  of  capita- 
listic competition.     In  fact,   in  theory  there  is  no 
reason  why  a  peasant  family  which  once  lived  on  its 
own   property  and  produced  all    it  required  should 
not  still  be  self-supporting  to-day.     If  it  works  for 
its  own  requirements,  and  not  to  produce  an  article 
destined  for  sale,  obviously  it  can  be  independent 
of  the  current  price  of  corn,  and  has  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  competition  of  a  better  equipped  producer 
or  a  more  clever  husbandman,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  it  does  not  compete  with  any  one.     But  all  this 
changes    from    the    moment    the    peasant    requires 
money,  and  is  consequently  obliged  to  sell  all  or  part 
of  his  harvest.     If  he  is  ill  equipped  or  unskilful,  and 
if  in  consequence  his  work  is  not  highly  productive, 
he  must  of  necessity  come  to  a  point  when  he  can 
no  longer  produce  enough  to  earn  the  sum  of  money 
he  requires  ;   or,  with  the  same  result  to  himself,  he 
will  be  obliged  to  sell  his  goods  at   a   price  which, 
whilst  it  is  still  sufficiently  remunerative  to  his  rivals, 
means  ruination  to  him.     Now  the  peasant,  under 
present  conditions,  must  have  money.     Even  if  he 
could  succeed  in  producing  all  he  consumes,  as  he 
did  in  the  good  old  days,  and  even  assuming  that  he 
could  keep  himself  out  of  debt,  a  capitalistic  State 
takes  good   care   to   put   him   under   an  obligation, 
without  his  permission,  by  forcing  him  to  take  his 
share  in  the  public  expenses.     Taxation  is  the  factor 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE  39 

that  spells  ruination  to  the  peasant.  Willy-nilly,  he 
must  work  for  the  market ;  he  must  make  good  the 
inferiority  of  his  primitive  equipment  and  his  super- 
annuated methods  of  culture  by  exceedingly  heavy 
toil.  Whilst  he  is  exceedingly  hard  upon  himself,  he 
exploits  unmercifully  those  whom  he  employs  on  his 
small  estate — his  wife  and  children,  his  man-servant, 
his  maid-servant,  and  his  day  labourers.  In  spite  of 
all,  he  only  keeps  his  head  above  water  with  diffi- 
culty ;  he  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  slightest  accident,  a 
bad  harvest,  or  an  illness.  Despite  the  most  desperate 
efforts,  the  moment  irrevocably  arrives  when  the 
unfortunate  man  is  obliged  to  mortgage  his  estates. 
This  is  the  prelude  to  the  inevitable  catastrophe, 
because,  in  addition  to  his  old  difficulties,  he  is  now 
obliged  to  pay  the  interest  on  his  debts  :  before  he 
can  sit  down  to  table  himself  he  must  satisfy  his 
creditors.  It  is  true  he  no  longer,  as  he  once  did, 
runs  the  risk  of  being  turned  out  of  his  property  by 
fraud  or  violence  ;  but  he  has  not  gained  much  by 
the  change,  for  from  the  day  that  he  becomes  in- 
solvent he  has  his  land  taken  away  from  him  as 
before — and,  moreover,  under  the  full  sanction  of  the 
law,  which  is  a  very  poor  consolation.  The  rural 
populations,  who  used  to  live  without  moving  for 
centuries,  now  find  themselves  rudely  uprooted  and 
dispersed.  Numberless  tenants  evicted  from  their 
little  bit  of  land,  and  peasants  ruined  and  bankrupt, 
are  obliged  either  to  emigrate  or  to  go  to  the  towns, 
where  they  swell  the  ever-increasing  army  of  un- 
skilled industrial  labourers. 

The  condition  of  rural  workers  is  even  worse — the 
owners  of  diminutive  holdings,  small  farmers  and 
cotters,  or  simple  day  labourers — who  try  to  make 
a  living  by  their  toil.     The  chief  cause  of  their  hard- 


40  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

ships  is  that  the  large  landowner  who  gives  them 
work  does  not  need  their  services  all  through  the 
year,  but  only  during  the  agricultural  seasons,  which 
have  been  very  much  curtailed  by  the  use  of 
machinery.  It  is  to  his  interest,  therefore,  to  en- 
courage a  large  number  of  labourers  during  a  short 
space  of  time  when  a  maximum  of  work  is  done,  and 
to  dismiss  most  of  them  immediately  afterwards. 
Consequently  these  unfortunate  people  have  alternate 
periods  of  killing  work — fifteen  to  eighteen  hours  a 
day  in  the  height  of  the  season — and  enforced  leisure. 
Settled  workers  have  not  even  the  hope  of  seeing  an 
improvement  in  their  lot.  For  they  are  exposed  to 
the  ruinous  competition  of  swarms  of  casual  labourers, 
chiefly  foreigners — either  Poles  or  Russians — who  con- 
gregate in  every  district  where  there  is  work,  and 
are  eagerly  welcomed  by  the  landowners,  as  these 
unfortunate  people  are  docile  and  incapable  of  re- 
sistance, content  with  ludicrously  low  wages,  and  go 
away  as  soon  as  they  are  no  longer  required. 

The  individualisation  of  property  has  not  only  had 
the  most  serious  consequences  for  the  material  con- 
dition of  the  rural  populations,  but  it  has  also  had  a 
profound  effect  even  upon  the  mind  of  the  peasant. 
Once  upon  a  time,  a  very  strong  tie  bound  a  peasant 
family  to  the  property  handed  down  for  cultivation 
from  father  to  son.  The  family  seemed  to  feel  a 
common  obligation  to  devote  their  labour  and  care 
to  this  property.  According  to  the  district,  the  land 
either  remained  undivided  among  all  those  who  had 
a  claim  to  it  and  cultivated  it  in  common,  or  else 
it  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  privileged  heir  (either 
the  eldest  or  the  youngest  son),  who  became  the  head 
of  the  family  and  generally  kept  his  brothers  and 
sisters  in  his  service.     The  men   and  maid-servants 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         41 

were  not  treated  as  hirelings,  but  as  members  of  the 
family,  and  also,  to  a  certain  extent,  shared  in  this 
devotion  to  the  land.  Now  all  this  has  changed. 
The  peasant  family  is  disintegrating,  and  an  eye  to 
the  main  chance  has  taken  the  place  of  the  instinct 
of  solidarity.  The  younger  brothers,  instead  of  re- 
maining on  the  family  property,  go  out  to  seek  their 
fortunes  in  the  industrial  world  or  else  emigrate. 
In  fact,  statistics  for  the  years  between  1882  and 
1895,  alone,  show  a  decrease  of  about  500,000  under 
the  heading  of  "  members  of  the  family  engaged  in 
agricultural  pursuits "  (382,872  in  1895  compared 
with  866,413  in  1882) — a  deficit  which  was  partly 
made  good  by  an  increase  in  domestic  servants,  both 
male  and  female,  whose  number  grew  from  1,589,088 
to  1,718,885.  The  peasant  proprietor  thus  became 
a  contractor,  who  tried  to  get  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  his  workmen,  whilst  the  servants,  on  their 
side,  aimed  at  obtaining  the  best  possible  terms  from 
their  masters.  Now,  the  general  growth  in  these  in- 
dividualistic tendencies  was  a  grave  menace  to  the 
existence  of  peasant  proprietors.  It  either  resulted 
in  the  infinite  partition  of  land,  under  a  system  by 
which  it  was  divided  among  all  the  heirs,  or  else  in 
debt,  in  the  cases  where  one  heir  inherited  the  whole 
property  and  found  himself  obliged  to  pay  a  money 
compensation  to  the  rest. 

We  thus  witness  in  the  domain  of  agriculture  also 
a  conspicuous  development  in  the  spirit  of  enter- 
prise. The  type  known  as  the  business  man  gradu- 
ally grows  more  and  more  common  among  the  class 
of  large  landowners,  peasants,  and  farmers.  But 
whilst  the  commercial  speculator  found  his  business 
extraordinarily  prosperous,  especially  at  the  end  of 
the  last  century,  the  agriculturist,  on  the  contrary, 


42  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

has  been  struggling  for  over  thirty  years  in  the  toils 
of  a  formidable  crisis,  the  end  of  which  is  apparently 
not  yet  in  sight.  The  question  is,  how  did  this 
crisis  arise  ? 

The  period  between  the  'thirties  and  1870  was  one 
of  remarkable  prosperity  for  German  agriculture. 

About  1800  Germany  was  in  a  position  not  only  to 
feed  her  own  people,  but  also  to  sell  her  surplus  pro- 
duce abroad.  But  the  growth  of  population  was  so 
rapid  and  the  consumption  of  food-stuffs  developed 
to  such  colossal  proportions  that,  in  spite  of  the 
increased  power  of  production  due  to  the  progress 
made  in  the  technical  processes  of  agriculture, 
Germany  soon  ceased  to  be  able  to  satisfy  the  needs 
of  her  own  market  herself.  Towards  the  middle  of 
the  century,  her  import  of  rye  began  to  exceed  her 
export,  until,  about  1880,  in  consequence  of  the 
growth  in  her  imports,  Germany  not  only  found 
herself  dependent  upon  the  foreigner  for  cereals  of  all 
kinds — wheat,  barley,  and  oats — but  was  also  obliged 
to  import  domestic  animals  of  every  sort — sheep, 
cows,  and  horses.  This,  obviously,  created  a  condi- 
tion of  things  favourable  to  agriculture.  And, 
indeed,  from  about  1830  onwards,  agriculture  enjoyed 
over  forty  years  of  prosperity,  during  which  it  is 
reckoned  there  was  a  general  rise  in  all  agricultural 
produce  varying  from  60  per  cent,  in  corn  to  148 
per  cent,  in  beef.  This  rise  naturally  entailed  a 
corresponding  increase  in  the  value  of  land.  It  is 
estimated  that  farms  more  than  doubled  in  value, 
whilst  the  price  of  land  was  three  or  even  four  times 
as  great  as  it  had  been. 

From  about  1880  this  state  of  things  began  to 
change.  Germany — and  for  the  matter  of  that  the 
whole  of  Western  Europe,  as  is  well  known — began  to 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE  43 

feel  the  effects  of  the  competition  of  new  countries 
which  produced  corn  in  large  quantities  at  a  low 
price — countries  like  Russia,  Roumania,  the  United 
States,  India,  Uruguay,  and  Argentina.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  growth  of  international  intercourse  and 
the  gradual  diminution  in  the  cost  of  transport  by 
rail  and  sea,  corn  could  be  sold  in  the  German  market 
at  ever  lower  prices.  A  period  of  depression  there- 
fore set  in ;  between  1896  and  1900  prices  fell, 
according  to  the  different  kinds  of  corn,  13|  to  23| 
per  cent,  as  compared  with  the  rates  between  1876 
and  1880.  This  was  accompanied  by  a  correspond- 
ing depression  in  the  value  of  farms  and  land. 
Now,  this  lowering  in  market  value  and  prices  had 
most  terrible  results  for  the  German  agriculturist, 
especially  by  reason  of  the  debt  with  which  landed 
property  was  weighed  down  in  consequence  of  it. 
Mortgages,  indeed,  increased  in  enormous  proportions 
during  the  course  of  the  century.  Proprietors  bor- 
rowed money  in  order  to  carry  out  improvements 
calculated  to  increase  the  output  of  the  land  ;  or 
heirs,  if  they  wished  to  keep  their  property  whole, 
were  obliged  to  compensate  their  co-inheritors  by  a 
sum  of  money.  Or  else  speculators,  expecting  a  rise 
in  the  market,  calculated  that  in  the  long  run  they 
would  profit  more  by  working  heavily  mortgaged 
estates,  of  which  they  could  obtain  possession  by  the 
outlay  of  a  small  initial  capital.  In  short,  for  a  host 
of  reasons,  landed  proprietors  found  their  debts 
growing  without  limit.  In  Prussia  alone,  between 
1883  and  1896,  this  increase  reached  a  total  of  nearly 
2,500  millions  of  marks.  It  is  obvious  that  to  the 
owner  of  a  heavily  mortgaged  estate  a  decrease  of 
income  quickly  causes  inconvenience,  and  means 
complete  ruin  as  soon  as  the  returns  from  his  land  are 


44     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

less  than  the  interest  he  is  obliged  to  pay  his  creditors 
every  year. 

Thus  the  competition  of  new  countries  and  the 
indebtedness  of  landed  property  produced  an  agri- 
cultural crisis  which  was  further  aggravated  by  other 
minor  circumstances,  and  especially  the  difficulty 
experienced  by  large  landowners  in  securing  the 
necessary  labour.  This  crisis  was  rendered  some- 
what less  severe  by  a  series  of  measures  tending  either 
to  raise  the  price  of  agricultural  produce  or  to  give 
assistance  to  the  agriculturist :  the  protectionist 
policy  inaugurated  in  1879  by  Bismarck,  for  instance  ; 
the  lowering  of  railway  rates  in  favour  of  the  home 
producer,  which  enabled  him  to  meet  foreign  com- 
petition more  successfully  ;  the  improvement  of 
education  in  agricultural  matters,  and  the  organisa- 
tion of  a  system  of  credit  in  that  department.  But 
even  to-day  the  crisis  cannot  be  regarded  as  ended. 
German  agriculture  maintains  its  existence  by  means 
of  protective  tariffs  and  thanks  to  the  solicitude  of 
the  Government  for  the  interests  of  the  landed 
nobility  and  the  rural  classes.  It  is  very  far  indeed 
from  following  in  the  ambitious  footsteps  of  German 
commerce,  and  political  economists  are  reduced  to 
expressing  the  hope  that  the  gradual  "  industrialisa- 
tion "  of  agriculture  may  perhaps,  in  the  future, 
succeed  in  imparting  fresh  vigour  to  it. 

In  the  meantime,  it  is  certain  that  agriculture  has 
lost  much  of  its  importance  in  the  life  of  the  nation. 
About  1830  it  is  estimated  that  four-fifths  of  the 
population  was  engaged  in  agricultural  pursuits. 
About  1860  the  proportion  was  only  three-fifths ;  in 
1882  it  was  very  little  more  than  two-fifths  (42 \  per 
cent.) ;  and  in  1895  it  falls  below  this  figure  (35*7  per 
cent.).     Whilst  agriculture  is  obliged,  owing  to  the 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE         45 

lack  of  labour,  to  employ  every  year,  during  the  busy 
season,  bands  of  foreign  workers,  chiefly  of  Polish 
extraction,  to  supply  the  deficiency  of  German 
labour,  the  percentage  of  the  population  living  by 
industry  and  commerce  daily  increases.  In  Prussia, 
for  the  year  1843,  it  was  25*3  per  cent.,  for  1895  nearly 
50  per  cent.  This  figure  is  greater  for  the  whole  of 
Germany,  and  has  reached  50  6  per  cent.  Before 
our  eyes  a  large  proportion  of  the  rural  population 
is  emigrating  to  the  towns  or  abroad,  and  Germany 
is  becoming  an  industrial  country.  Lamprecht 
quotes  statistics  which  show  that  about  1900  the 
annual  agricultural  produce  was  worth  6,000  millions 
of  marks,  whilst  small  and  large  industries  produced 
twice  that  amount ;  and  that  the  revenue  derived  from 
agricultural  enterprises  reached  3,000  millions,  whilst 
that  drawn  from  industry  and  commerce  was  13,500 
millions. 

An  investigation  into  the  balance  of  trade  proves, 
in  a  striking  manner,  the  change  which  has  taken 
place  in  this  respect.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
since  between  1885  and  1888  the  imports  of  Germany 
have  exceeded  her  exports,  and  to  such  an  extent 
that  in  1900  her  imports  reached  5,833  millions  of 
marks,  whilst  her  exports  only  reached  4,555  millions, 
thus  showing  an  excess  in  the  imports  of  1,278 
millions  of  marks.  Now,  what  do  these  figures 
prove  ?  First  of  all,  that  Germany  is  to-day  an 
industrial  country,  no  longer  living  on  the  produce  of 
her  own  soil,  but  on  the  industry  of  her  inhabitants. 
Political  economists  have  calculated  that  if  Germany 
wished  to  produce  from  her  own  soil  the  food-stuffs 
and  raw  material  necessary  for  her  own  consumption 
and  her  own  industry,  she  would  require  a  territory 
at  least  twice  or  three  times  as  large  as  that  of  the 


46  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

present  Empire,  and  this  exclusive  of  tropical  pro- 
ducts, such  as  spices,  coffee,  and  cotton,  which  her 
geographical  position  prevents  her  from  growing.  It 
is  thus  obvious  that  the  present  population  of  the 
German  Empire  could  not  exist  if  it  were  not  in  a 
position  to  procure  an  enormous  quantity  of  foreign 
goods,  the  production  of  which  would  require  an 
extent  of  territory  which  Germany  does  not  possess. 
How  does  she  secure  this  ?  In  the  first  place,  by 
exchanging  one  product  for  another,  either  by  selling 
abroad  in  her  turn  certain  products  of  her  own  soil, 
and  above  all  the  articles  manufactured  by  her  in- 
dustry. Secondly,  by  making  good  the  difference 
between  her  expenditure  and  her  income  by  the  help 
of  two  main  sources  of  revenue — that  provided  by 
her  maritime  commerce  and  that  by  capital  invested 
abroad.  The  estimate  for  1899  of  the  profits  realised 
by  German  maritime  transport  is  about  250  millions 
of  marks,  whilst  the  revenue  derived  during  the  same 
year  from  capital  invested  abroad  was  valued  at 
1,000  millions  of  marks.  These  two  sums  together 
reach  a  total  which  almost  covers  the  deficit  of  1,278 
millions  of  marks  shown  by  the  balance  of  trade 
during  1900.  The  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which 
the  change  was  accomplished  is  proved  by  the  fact 
that  as  late  as  1880  the  balance  of  trade  showed  a 
credit  of  86  millions  of  marks,  whilst  in  1888  it 
showed  a  debit  of  only  67  millions,  which  reached 
1,278  millions  in  1900  and  rose  in  1905  to  1,253 
millions. 

It  is  thus  quite  clear  that  the  population  of  Ger- 
many cannot  exist  on  the  produce  of  her  own  soil 
alone.  It  lives  by  industry,  maritime  commerce, 
and  acquired  wealth.  An  agricultural  country  at 
the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  Germany  is  on  the 


EFFECTS    UPON    AGRICULTURE  47 

way  to  becoming  a  colossal  industrial  and  capital- 
istic state.  And  this  transformation  has  not  been 
realised  without  inspiring  many  Germans  with  feel- 
ings of  regret  and  anxiety.  They  are  asking  them- 
selves whether  the  change  from  a  rural  to  an  urban 
maimer  of  life,  from  labour  on  the  land  to  industrial 
toil,  will  not  entail  disastrous  consequences  for  the 
physical  and  moral  well-being  of  the  race.  And  they 
perceive  a  possible,  if  not  an  actual,  danger  in  the 
fact  that  Germany  is  growing  less  and  less  able  to 
nourish  her  own  population,  and  finds  herself  obliged 
to  rely  ever  more  completely  for  her  livelihood  on 
her  external  trade,  and  consequently  upon  foreign 
purchases. 


CHAPTER    IV 

SOCIAL   EVOLUTION 

The  system  of  enterprise  has  not  only  considerably 
modified  the  condition  of  production — it  has  also 
fundamentally  changed  the  social  structure  of  the 
nation. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  there 
were,  roughly  speaking,  three  distinct  classes  in  Ger- 
many— the  "  nobility,"  including  in  addition  to 
the  aristocracy  proper,  the  old  patrician  families  of 
the  free  towns  ;  a  rather  vague  "  intermediate  " 
class,  consisting,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  cultured 
elite  of  the  nation,  and,  on  the  other,  of  everybody 
who  possessed  a  moderate  competency,  high  and 
petty  officials,  manufacturers  and  merchants — in 
short,  the  greater  part  of  what  is  to-day  called  the 
middle  class ;  and,  lastly,  the  "  people  "  formed  by 
the  artisans,  the  rural  populations,  and  the  prole- 
tariat which  was  coming  into  existence  at  that 
time.  Until  about  the  middle  of  the  century,  the 
line  of  demarcation  between  the  various  types  was 
exceedingly  faint.  On  the  one  hand  between  the 
wealthy  member  of  the  upper  middle  class  and  the 
noble,  and  on  the  other  between  the  member  of 
the  lower  middle  class  and  the  labourer,  the  difference 
was  practically  indistinguishable.  The  capitalistic 
middle  class  did  not  yet  exist  as  an  order  of  society. 
The  proletariat  was  regarded  as  a  collection  of  the 

48 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  49 

unclassed  remnants  of  society,  and  it  was  considered 
the  business  of  the  Government  gradually  to  include 
it  in  the  other  social  categories  and  thus  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  multiplication  of  its  members. 

In  the  second  half  of  the  century,  with  the  rise  of 
capitalistic  enterprise,  this  state  of  things  changed 
rapidly.  On  the  one  side,  we  see  a  huge  army  of 
labour  coming  into  existence,  in  which  social  outcasts 
of  every  description  are  found  shoulder  to  shoulder 
with  craftsmen  in  domestic  industry,  the  majority  of 
skilled  artisans  ruined  by  the  competition  of  the 
large  manufacturers,  the  bulk  of  agricultural  labourers 
and  evicted  peasants.  And  at  the  other  extremity 
of  the  social  ladder  there  sprang  up  a  class  of  "  con- 
tractors," into  which  everybody  who  in  one  way 
or  another  had  some  interest  in  capitalistic  enterprise 
congregated,  from  the  old  landed  proprietors  be- 
longing to  the  ancient  nobility,  or  the  kings  of 
commerce  and  finance,  down  to  workmen  who  had 
grown  wealthy,  small  merchants,  and  the  managers 
of  large  industrial  firms. 

The  proletariat — that  is  to  say,  the  class  of  people 
who,  according  to  Sombart's  definition,  only  make 
a  livelihood  by  earning  a  salary  paid  in  money,  are 
engaged  for  a  particular  job,  and  can  be  dismissed 
on  the  shortest  notice,  or  even  summarily — was  not 
numerous  until  about  1850.  It  is  true  that  from  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  existed  a  labour- 
ing class  living  in  a  state  of  dependence  upon  capital- 
istic enterprise.  It  is,  no  doubt,  also  true  that  this 
class  increased  slowly  between  1820  and  1840  in 
proportion  to  the  development  of  enterprise  in 
Germany.  But  it  did  not  yet  show  any  marked 
features,  and  there  was  scarcely  any  clear  line  of 
demarcation  discernible  between  the  common  work- 
4 


50  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

man  and  the  artisan  or  petty  tenant.  It  was  only 
during  the  'fifties  and  'sixties,  when  the  old  forms 
of  industry  underwent  a  violent  crisis,  that  the 
German  proletariat,  which  from  that  day  forward 
never  ceased  to  multiply,  really  came  into  existence. 
And  this  phase  of  its  evolution  seems  also  to  have 
been  its  most  painful  one.  The  terrible  uncertainty 
of  life  for  the  proletariat  is  well  known  ;  the  absolute 
dependence  of  its  members  upon  the  employer,  who 
can  at  any  moment  deprive  them  of  their  work  and  re- 
duce them  to  want ;  the  dangers  they  run  on  account 
of  the  crisis  in  supply  and  demand  to  which  industry 
is  periodically  subjected ;  the  ever-increasing  difficulty 
for  the  workman  to  raise  himself  to  the  position 
of  a  master  ;  the  degradation  of  labour  due  to  the 
development  of  machinery,  which  has  made  man 
merely  an  appendage  to  the  machine,  and  thus  con- 
demns him  to  a  stupefying  toil  from  which  he  can 
derive  no  satisfaction.  We  all  know  the  terrible 
drama  of  proletarian  pauperism :  the  shameless  ex- 
ploitation not  of  the  workman  alone,  but  of  his  wife 
and  family  ;  the  indefinite  extension  of  the  working 
day,  the  overcrowding  in  unhealthy  surroundings, 
the  starvation  wages,  the  crises  of  unemployment, 
which  reduce  whole  districts  to  despair.  Germany 
has  not  been  more  successful  in  escaping  these  evils 
than  any  other  industrial  nation.  The  most  that 
can  be  said  is  that  she  has  perhaps  suffered  less  in 
proportion  than  England,  because  the  rise  of  capi- 
talism came  later  in  Germany,  and  the  abuses  of 
the  new  system  met,  as  soon  as  they  appeared,  with 
a  more  determined  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
public  conscience. 

At  all  events,  it  is  certain  that  "  class  feeling  ' 
developed  fairly  rapidly  in  the  German  working  man. 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  51 

During  the  last  thirty  years  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, the  proletariat  increased  1  in  numbers,  and  at 
the  same  time  organised  itself  into  a  political 
party.  Worked  out  in  the  brains  of  philosophers, 
who  dreamed  of  turning  to  the  advantage  of  society 
as  a  whole  the  discoveries  of  inventors,  and  who  saw 
in  the  community  of  wealth,  or  in  the  nationalisation 
of  the  means  of  production,  the  only  cure  for  the  ills 
of  the  people,  the  Socialistic  ideal  gradually  became 
the  popular  ideal.  At  the  same  time,  the  instinctive 
chaotic  revolt  of  labour  against  oppression  and 
poverty  gave  place  to  the  methodical  organisation 
of  the  proletarian  forces  in  their  struggle  against 
capitalism.  Fichte  and  Hegel,  and  afterwards  Feuer- 
bach  and  Young  Germany,  Moses  Hess  and  Karl 
Griin,  and  finally  Marx  and  Engels,  gradually  de- 
veloped  the  materialistic  theory  of  history  and  the 
doctrine  of  collectivism.  From  the  beginning  of 
1848,  the  Communistic  Federation,  which  combined 
the  popular  and  the  intellectual  elements  of  the  new 
party,  launched  forth  its  celebrated  Manifesto,  which 
formulated  in  all  its  essential  features  the  programme 
of  Socialism  and  urged  the  proletariat  of  every 
country  to  combine  for  the  class  struggle.  In  1863, 
under  the  leadership  of  Lassalle,  the  General  Associa- 
tion of  German  Workmen  was  founded,  which  con- 
centrated the  forces  of  the  labouring  class  into  a 
party  which  was  independent  of  the  progressive 
section  of  the  middle  classes.  From  that  moment, 
the  Socialist  Party,  which  was  at  first  split  up  for 
some  years  into  "  Lassallians  "  and  "  Internationals," 
but  was  unified  in  1875  at  the  Congress  of  Gotha 

1  Sombart  calculated  that  in  1895  the  proletariat  consisted  of 
about  35  millions — that  is  to  say,  about  67 £  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
population  of  the  Empire. 


52  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

under  the  title  of  German  Socialist  Labour  Party, 
made  uninterrupted  progress.  In  1871  it  secured 
113,000  votes  in  the  Reichstag  elections  ;  in  1881, 
312,000  ;  in  1890, 1,427,000  ;  in  1896,  2,107,000  ;  and 
almost  3,200,000  in  1907  1 ;  and  it  now  has  a  larger 
number  of  constituents  than  any  other  party.  It  is 
true  that  these  do  not  consist  entirely  of  orthodox 
Socialists,  but  also  include  a  large  number  of  mal- 
contents of  all  kinds,  who,  by  voting  for  the  Socialist 
candidate,  merely  wish  to  register,  in  the  most 
emphatic  manner  possible,  their  disapproval  of  the 
actual  state  of  affairs  ;  but  it  is  none  the  less  certain 
that  the  party  as  a  whole  is  composed  of  the  prole- 
tariat themselves,  and  that  this  class,  concentrated 
in  a  large  party,  subjected  to  a  severe  discipline  and 
animated  by  a  strong  esprit  de  corps,  forms  an  im- 
posing bulk  which  grows  every  day  more  conscious 
of  its  own  power. 

For  a  long  time  the  labour  movement  in  Germany 
was  chiefly  political.  Unlike  its  brethren  in  Eng- 
land, the  country  of  powerful  trade  unions  and 
prosperous  co-operative  societies,  the  German  prole- 
tariat was  rather  slow  to  form  any  organisation  in 
the  economic  field.  Nevertheless,  it  has  to-day  made 
a  great  advance  in  this  domain  also.  Outside  the 
Socialist  Democratic  Party,  but  sharing  its  ideas, 
strong  unions  have  sprung  up,  whose  influence  has 
grown  considerably,  especially  during  the  last  ten 
years,  and  whose  actions  are  generally  in  unison  with 
those  of  the  Socialist  Party.  No  doubt  non-Socialist 
unions  also  exist.  The  Hirsch-Duncker  Professional 
Associations,  founded  in  1868  by  the  Progressive 
Party,  and  the  Christian  syndicates  inaugurated  a 
few  years  ago  by  the  Catholic  Centre  Party,  do  not 

1   The  number  in  1912  was  estimated  at  3,800,000— Tr. 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  53 

place  themselves  upon  the  basis  of  class  antagonism, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  assert  the  unity  of  interests 
between  the  employer  and  the  employed,  or  recognise 
the  equal  rights  and  duties  of  capital  and  labour  re- 
spectively. But  these  associations  have  not  anything 
like  the  importance  of  the  Free  Syndicates*  which, 
even  if  they  are  neutral  in  theory  and  exact  no  pro- 
fession of  political  faith  from  their  members,  are  in 
reality  composed  of  a  huge  majority  of  Socialists. 
Under  these  circumstances,  in  spite  of  the  inevitable 
hitches  and  temporary  rivalry  between  "  politicians  " 
and  "  syndicalists,"  the  unions  nearly  always  work 
in  harmony  with  the  Socialist  Democratic  Party. 
Now,  these  unions,  which  were  founded  with  the 
object  of  protecting  the  professional  interests  of  the 
working  man,  have  given  proofs  of  great  vitality, 
more  especially  during  the  last  few  years.  Menaced 
in  their  very  existence  by  powerful  employers' 
syndicates  in  Germany,  they  have  not  only  resisted 
disorganisation,  but  have  even  imbibed  fresh  force 
from  the  attacks  levelled  against  them.  Their  papers 
announce  with  pride  that  the  lock-outs  decreed  by 
the  employers'  syndicates  in  response  to  strikes  have 
at  present  only  had  the  effect  of  strengthening  the 
solidarity  of  labour  and  attracting  fresh  recruits  to 
the  armies  of  Trade  Unionism. 

With  the  organisation  of  a  large  political  party 
divided  into  strong  associations  of  the  various  trades, 
the  proletariat  of  Germany  is  fighting  energetically 
to  win  a  more  tolerable  existence  for  itself.  And 
apparently  these  efforts  have  not  been  altogether 

1  Statistics  show  that  towards  the  end  of  1895  the  Hirsch- 
Duncker  Associations  numbered  120,000  members,  the  Christian 
Syndicates  250,000,  and  the  small  group  of  Independent  Syndicates 
75,000  ;  whilst  the  Free  Syndicates  had  over  1,300,000  members. 


54  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

fruitless.  Pessimism  with  regard  to  social  matters 
seems  to  have  made  way  for  an  at  least  comparatively 
optimistic  frame  of  mind.  The  Socialists  are  march- 
ing forward  full  of  confidence  to  the  conquest  of 
political  and  economic  power.  They  also  look  more 
and  more  for  the  realisation  of  their  hopes,  not  to 
some  great  social  upheaval,  but  to  a  slow  process  of 
pacific  evolution  which  will  transform  the  capital- 
istic order  of  society  from  within.  The  gloomy 
resignation  of  early  days  has  given  place  to  a  pug- 
nacious spirit.  A  very  pronounced  desire  for  culture 
and  art  has  been  added  to  an  interest  in  the  mere 
material  necessities  of  life.  A  number  of  political 
economists,  moreover,  regard  the  economic  future 
of  the  country  with  less  suspicion.  They  quote  with 
satisfaction  the  general  rise  in  the  revenues,  a  slight 
relative  decrease  in  numbers  in  the  poorest  class,  the 
rise  of  wages,  the  improvement  in  the  conditions  of 
life  among  the  people,1  and  the  diminution  of  emi- 
gration.2 They  draw  attention  to  the  increased 
security  given  to  the  working  classes  by  insurance 
against  accidents,   invalidity,  old  age,  and  illness.3 

1  Statistics  show  that  during  the  last  thirty  years  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  consumption  of  cotton,  per  head  of  the  popu- 
lation, was  trebled,  whilst  the  consumption  of  beer,  corn,  meat, 
eggs,  and  milk  almost  doubled.  This  improvement,  certainly  to  a 
large  extent,  benefited  the  working  classes.  Statisticians  also 
note,  to  the  credit  of  the  proletariat  in  Germany,  that  during  the 
same  period  the  consumption  of  alcohol  and  tobacco  remained 
almost  stationary. 

2  The  number  of  emigrants,  which  between  1881  and  1885 
reached  an  average  of  170,000  persons  per  annum,  fell  to  22,000 
in  1900  and  rose  to  only  28,000  in  1905. 

3  Insurance  against  accident  is  enjoyed  by  nearly  19£  million 
workmen,  and  the  insurance  companies  paid  claims  amounting  to 
120*7  millions  of  marks  during  1904.  Insurance  against  invalidity 
and  old  age  paid,  in  the  same  year,  claims  amounting  to  1 50  millions 
of  marks,  and  during  the  total  thirteen  years  that  it  has  been  in 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  55 

They  point  out  that  among  the  bulk  of  the  prole- 
tariat there  are  signs  of  a  growing  tendency  to 
differentiate,  and  that  above  the  mass  of  incapable, 
unfortunate,  or  fallen  members  of  society  and  the 
crowd  of  "  unskilled  "  labourers,  a  body  of  "  skilled  " 
artisans  is  coming  into  existence  whose  standard  of 
life  is  improving  every  day.  All  these  symptoms 
seem  calculated  to  inspire  the  hope  that  the  terrible 
problem  created  by  the  colossal  growth  of  the  prole- 
tariat will  find  a  solution  by  means  of  pacific  evolution 
instead  of  violent  upheavals. 

At  the  same  time  as  the  system  of  capitalistic 
enterprise  created  at  the  foot  of  the  social  ladder 
the  great  class  of  the  proletariat,  it  also  profoundly 
modified  the  upper  and  intermediate  sections  of 
German  society. 

Generally  speaking,  modern  social  evolution  tends 
to  substitute,  for  the  old  categories  founded  on  differ- 
ences of  social  function,  new  subdivisions  based 
simply  upon  differences  of  income.  It  wipes  out  or 
modifies  the  differences  between  the  countryman  and 
the  townsman,  between  the  peasant,  the  tradesman, 
and  the  industrial  worker,  who  are  on  the  same  level 
of  material  wealth.  For  those  who  roughly  enjoy 
the  same  competency,  it  creates  more  or  less  uniform 
habits  and  conditions  of  life.  And  if,  among  the 
innumerable  social  types  which  constitute  the  upper 
and  middle  classes — small  contractors  and  small  town 
and  country  tradesmen,  the  head  employees  of  large 
concerns  of  all  kinds,  the  late  survivals  of  the  old 
middle  class,  the  cultured  minority  engaged  in  the 
liberal  professions,  officials  and  officers,  the  aristo- 

working,  almost  855*6  millions  of  marks.  In  1903  the  insurance 
against  illness  dealt  with  almost  11  million  cases,  and  the  claims 
paid  during  that  year  amounted  to  over  213  millions. 


56  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

cracy  of  commerce  or  of  birth — there  are  certainly 
profound  distinctions,  the  difference  is  much  more 
one  of  income  than  of  special  occupation  or  the 
observance  of  certain  traditional  manners  and  cus- 
toms. 

There  is  also  noticeable,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
drastic  destruction  of  recognised  tables  of  values. 
In  the  place  of  the  old  aristocracies  of  birth  and  of 
culture,  there  has  sprung  up  a  commercial  and  in- 
dustrial aristocracy  whose  fundamental  criterion  for 
distinguishing  rank  and  merit  is  a  capacity  for  busi- 
ness and  for  success.  It  is  unnecessary  to  remark 
that  this  evolution  is  very  far  from  having  reached 
its  highest  development  and  that  the  majority  of  the 
old  groupings  still  subsist  more  or  less  intact  in  the 
very  midst  of  modern  society.  This  accounts  for  the 
fact  that  people  of  the  middle  class  who  are  engaged 
in  the  "  liberal  professions,"  especially  the  clergy, 
schoolmasters  and  professors,  the  members  of  the 
Civil  Service,  or  officers  in  the  army,  have  scarcely 
been  touched  by  the  spirit  of  enterprise.  Neverthe- 
less, this  new  spirit  is  gradually  insinuating  itself 
into  almost  every  department  of  life,  and  is  little  by 
little  dissolving  the  ancient  hierarchies.  Even  the 
aristocracy,  who,  on  principle,  declared  that  it  was 
impossible  for  them,  without  demeaning  themselves, 
to  take  part  in  modern  economic  life,  the  commerical 
character  of  which  was  repugnant  to  them,  have  not 
escaped  the  contagion.  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
nobility,  in  their  capacity  as  landed  proprietors,  have 
also  been  caught  in  the  wheel  of  the  capitalistic 
system.  And  in  their  case  this  has  happened  under 
unfavourable  conditions,  because  agricultural  enter- 
prise gives  returns  which  are,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
far  inferior  to  those  provided  by  industrial  or  com- 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  57 

mercial  speculations.  So  much  is  this  the  case,  that 
some  thinkers  have  wondered  whether  the  economic 
basis  upon  which  the  power  of  the  nobility  is 
founded  in  these  days  is  solid  enough  to  allow  of 
their  maintaining  their  preponderating  political 
influence  and  their  social  prestige  much  longer. 
At  all  events,  the  new  commercial  aristocracy  is 
growing  every  day  more  strong  and  self-confident 
by  the  side  of  the  aristocracy  of  birth.  After 
having  for  a  long  time — until  about  the  'eighties 
— tried  as  far  as  possible  to  ape  the  old  nobility 
and  to  adopt  their  customs  and  way  of  life,  they 
seem  at  present  to  aim  more  at  asserting  their 
own  independence  and  maintaining  their  own  indi- 
viduality. They  are  in  the  midst  of  a  process  of 
forming  themselves  into  a  separate  caste,  with  their 
own  special  characteristics  and  ranks,  and  owning 
allegiance  to  a  small  oligarchical  coterie  engaged  in 
high  finance. 

•  •  •  •  • 

We  have  now  seen  pretty  clearly  the  general  re- 
sults of  that  tremendous  rush  for  economic  power 
which  was  characteristic  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
By  utilising  and  exploiting  the  marvellous  discoveries 
of  science  and  the  improvements  in  technical  pro- 
cesses, by  working  without  ceasing  to  progress  in 
scientific  knowledge  in  order  to  create  new  sources 
of  profit,  the  spirit  of  enterprise  introduced  an 
organised  method  into  the  rational  exploitation  of 
the  forces  of  nature,  of  the  wealth  of  the  land,  and  of 
human  labour.  And  it  has  reached  these  prodigious 
results  by  the  proclamation  of  the  principle  of  un- 
restricted competition  and  the  right  of  every  man 
to  develop  as  he  pleases  his  various  faculties  and  his 
capacity  for  work,  and  by  destroying  the  traditional 


58  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

institutions  which  were  opposed  to  the  free  expansion 
of  individual  energy,  which  curbed  unbridled  and 
insatiable  ambition  and  assigned  to  each  man  a 
clearly  circumscribed  sphere  of  action  from  which  it 
was  almost  impossible  for  him  to  escape.  The  result 
attained  is  certainly  wonderful.  The  nineteenth 
century  produced  an  enormous  increase  in  the 
power  of  man  over  matter,  and  it  succeeded  in  achiev- 
ing a  gradual  "  rationalisation  "  of  life.  It  developed 
the  production  of  material  wealth  to  colossal  pro- 
portions. It  solved  the  problem  of  making  Germany 
capable  of  providing  a  tolerable  livelihood  for  60 
million  souls,  whilst  at  the  beginning  of  the  century 
only  25  million  could  live  on  the  same  extent  of 
territory,  and  that  under  conditions  certainly  far 
harder  than  they  are  to-day.  It  transformed  a  poor 
agricultural  country  into  a  formidable  factory  pro- 
vided with  the  most  perfect  industrial  and  com- 
mercial equipment,  living  on  the  industry  of  its 
workers  and  on  the  income  from  its  acquired  wealth. 
Germans  are  proud,  and  justly  proud,  of  the  capacity 
for  application,  for  energetic  perseverance,  for  scien- 
tific rectitude,  for  order,  and  above  all  for  discipline, 
which  have  allowed  them  to  take,  in  the  general 
unloosing  of  competition,  one  of  the  foremost  places 
among  the  industrial  nations  of  the  modern  world. 

But  they  also  acknowledge  that  this  tremendous 
upheaval  has  not  taken  place  without  bringing  many 
an  evil  in  its  train.  They  are  filled  with  anxiety  at 
the  thought  that  Germany  is  no  longer  in  a  position 
to  feed  her  people  with  the  produce  of  her  own  soil, 
and  ask  themselves  whether  the  gradual  industrialisa- 
tion of  national  life  will  not  produce  lamentable 
results  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  physical  and 
moral  balance  of  the  race.     They  are  depressed  at 


SOCIAL    EVOLUTION  59 

the  sight  of  the  constant  increase  in  the  pace  of  life, 
and  the  ever  swifter  and  more  rapid  motion  which 
hurries  men  and  things  onward  and  envelopes  in  its 
vortex  all  that  has  anything  to  do  with  the  system 
of  enterprise.  They  deplore  the  insecurity  of  life  to 
which  the  system  of  unrestricted  competition,  with 
its  anarchical  method  of  production,  its  periodical 
crises,  and  its  perpetual  instability,  has  exposed  all 
who  are  engaged  in  it,  whether  they  belong  to  the 
proletariat  or  the  capitalist  class,  whether  they  are 
masters,  employees,  or  ordinary  workers.  They 
draw  attention  to  the  fact  that  man  ends  by 
becoming  a  slave  to  the  things  he  creates.  Modern 
industry  and  commerce  impose  on  the  consumer  a 
limited  number  of  products  which  tyrannically  beg 
his  favour.  And  so  well  does  it  succeed,  that  all 
variety  in  private  life  is  clearly  dying  out  and 
making  way  for  an  ever-increasing  uniformity  of 
requirements,  which  are  satisfied,  and  at  the  same 
time  determined,  by  wholesale  production.  In 
short,  many  Germans  feel  very  little*  edified  by 
the  results  which  the  great  principle  of  the  sub- 
stitution of  quantity  for  quality  has  given  with 
regard  to  the  development  of  the  race.  They  con- 
template without  enthusiasm  the  artificial  man  of 
to-day,  their  contemporary  townspeople,  the  off- 
spring of  the  asphalt  of  large  cities,  with  no  direct 
contact  with  Nature,  without  traditions  and  without 
a  past,  without  any  real  personality — an  abstract 
type,  middling  and  mediocre,  the  product  of  present- 
day  urban  civilisation.  And  they  ask  themselves, 
not  without  some  feeling  of  trepidation,  whither  this 
evolution  is  tending.  Will  it  end  in  a  violent  catas- 
trophe, or  in  slow  decay,  till  the  advent  of  those 
"  last  men  " — a  vast  host  of  sand  fleas,  over-cautious 


60     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

and  over-cautioned  creatures,  without  hopes  and 
without  ideals,  which  the  ardent  imagination  of 
Nietzsche  foresaw  ? 

If,  in  spite  of  all  this,  they  are  on  the  whole  con- 
fident in  the  future,  it  is   because   they  expect,  in 
one  shape  or  another,  a  fundamental  transformation 
in  the  system  of  capitalistic  enterprise.     And  it  is 
not  Socialists  alone  who  hope  either  for  the  advent  of 
collectivism  by  means  of  revolution  or  for  the  gradual 
peaceful  "  socialisation  "  of  the  country.     Men  who 
absolutely  repudiate  all  upheavals,  and  who  frankly 
admire  the  economic  and  political  achievements  of 
the  last  century,  are  also  of  the  opinion  that  the  era 
of  unrestricted  competition  is  drawing  to  its  close. 
Lamprecht,  for  instance,  far  removed  as  he  is  from 
believing  in  the  social  cataclysm  predicted  by  ortho- 
dox Marxism,  is  none  the  less  certain  that  a  profound 
change  is  slowly  preparing  itself.     The  fact  that  a 
new  order  of  things  is  imminent  seems  proved  to  him 
by  a  host  of  signs — such,  for  instance,  as  the  develop- 
ment of  associations  of  credit  and  of  production,  the 
growing  extension  in  State  enterprises,  the  increase 
of  trade  unions  on  the  one  hand  and  of  employers' 
syndicates    on    the   other,   the    development    of    co- 
operative societies,  and,  also,  the  spread  among  the 
working  and  thinking  classes  of  social  doctrines  which 
grow  more  practical  and  less  Utopian  every  day,  the 
incessant  progress  of  insurance,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, and  the  great  measures  for  the  protection  of 
labour  carried  out  by  the  State.     All  these  symptoms 
seem  to  indicate  that  the  principle  of  free  enterprise 
is  being  gradually  discredited  on  all  sides,  that  there 
is   a    growing   tendency   to    limit    competition,   and 
that    Germany   is   slowly  advancing  towards  a  less 
anarchical  method  of  production  and  a  system  which 


SOCIAL   EVOLUTION  61 

will  give  more  individual  security.  Free  enterprise 
and  unrestricted  competition  are  thus  being  gradually 
supplanted  by  a  system  of  organised  enterprise  and 
of  regulated  and  restricted  competition  (Gebundene 
Unternehmung)  which  will  give  more  permanence  and 
stability  to  the  social  hierarchy,  organise  a  new 
aristocracy  of  labour  and  commerce,  and  also  secure 
for  the  proletarian  masses  a  less  precarious  and  more 
humane  manner  of  life.  It  is  on  the  advent  of  this 
era  of  economic  and  social  solidarity  that  the  picked 
intellects  of  Germany  seem  to  build  their  hopes  to- 
day. 


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Jul  <* 


BOOK   II 
POLITICAL  EVOLUTION 


63 


CHAPTER    I 

THE   PROBLEM   OF   GERMAN   LIBERTY   AND    UNITY 


The  rise  of  the  system  of  free  enterprise,  which 
during  the  course  of  the  nineteenth  century  resulted 
in  such  an  astonishing  intensification  of  human  labour 
and  in  such  a  marvellous  development  of  economic 
activity,  could  not  fail  also  to  have  a  decisive  influence 
upon  the  political  evolution  of  Germany. 

Free  enterprise,  which  tends  towards  unlimited 
economic  expansion,  has,  as  its  first  logical  corollary, 
a  desire  for  the  attainment  of  political  power.  Its 
fundamental  principle  is  quantitative  production,  it 
creates  ever  more  enormous  bulks  of  merchandise, 
and  thus  tends  to  accumulate  stocks  of  goods  which 
are  larger  than  the  requirements  of  the  consumer's 
immediate  demand.  It  consequently  finds  itself 
driven  to  seek  every  conceivable  means  of  circulating 
its  goods,  it  is  obliged  to  extend  its  field  of  operation 
as  much  as  possible,  and  after  consolidating  its 
natural  economic  domain — Germany  itself — to  seek 
outlets  for  its  produce  in  foreign  lands,  and  to  demand 
free  trade  everywhere  and  liberty  of  access  to  all 
the  markets  of  the  world.  In  short,  it  aims  at  en- 
larging its  sphere  of  influence  indefinitely,  and  in 
order  the  better  to  secure  its  supremacy  and  defend 
itself  against  foreign  competition,  it  is  irresistibly 
5  65 


i 


66  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

impelled  to  build  its  economic  power  upon  a  founda- 
tion of  political  strength. 

Thus  German  policy  during  the  nineteenth  century- 
aimed  at  unity  and  imperialism  and  endeavoured  to 
win7  political  solidarity,  to  restore  the  Empire  and 
then  develop  a  system  which  would  result  in  union. 
But  it  did  not  rest  content  with  this.  It  gradually 
came  to  consider  the  German  Empire,  founded 
on  the  victories  of  1866  and  1870,  as  the  solid 
kernel  of  a  far  more  extensive  Pan-Germanic  "  Im- 
perium."  .  ^This  Greater  Germany  embraces  the  entire 
spTiere  of  German  interests  throughout  the  world. 
It  includes  not  only  the  home  territory,  but  the 
countries  in  which  the  German  element  plays  a 
more  or  less  leading  part — as  it  does  in  Austria,  the 
Baltic  provinces  of  Russia,  Switzerland,  Holland, 
and  Flemish  Belgium.  It  extends  to  the  German 
colonies,  which  emigrants  have  planted  all  over  the 
world,  and  binds  together  all  the  material  and  spiritual 
interests  of  Germany  in  the  four  quarters  of  the 
globe.  Germany  thus  grew  accustomed  to  extend- 
ing her  gaze  far  beyond  her  own  political  frontiers, 
and  from  a  national  State  she  became  an  expansive 
State.  She  grew  familiar  with  the  idea  of  imperialism, 
which  considers  a  nation  something  more  than  an 
ethnical  entity  tied  down  to  a  limited  area,  and  re- 
gards it  as  a  ceaselessly  active  force  which  is  ever  striv- 
ing to  extend  its  sphere  of  influence  and  struggling 
without  relaxation  throughout  the  whole  world  and 
in  every  corner  of  the  globe  against  the  energies  of 
rival  peoples  whose  powers  of  expansion  form  a 
barrier  to  its  own  might.  Germany  thus  found  her- 
self dragged  into  building  a  fleet  and  becoming  a 
maritime  Power  ;  she  founded  a  colonial  empire  and 
took  an  ever  more  energetic   share  in  the   world's 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    67 

politics.  And  accordingly  she  ranks  to-day,  together 
with  England  and  the  United  States,  as  one  of  the 
most  resolutely  "  expansive  "  nations  of  the  modern 
world. 

At  the  same  time  as  Germany  was  carrying  out  the 
process  of  her  unification  and  organisation  against 
the  foreigner,  she  was  also  transforming  her  own 
institutions.  This  internal  evolution  also  took  the 
form  of  a  struggle  for  power  between  rival  parties, 
each  of  which  aspired  to  take  that  share  of  influence 
in  the  national  organisation  to  which  might  gave  it 
right.  And  during  the  course  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury this  conflict  assumed  an  ever  more  realistic  and 
practical  character.  If  the  parties  were,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  in  the  beginning  founded  upon  distinctions 
of  principle,  they  tended  gradually  to  change  into 
social  groups,  and  ended  by  really  becoming  associa- 
tions based  up^mjnterest.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  men  fought  for  the  principle  of 
authority  or  for  the  religion  of  liberty.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  twentieth  century  we  find  the  repre- 
sentatives of  agriculture,  industry,  and  commerce, 
workers  and  Catholics,  forming  powerful  societies,  in 
which  they  eagerly  discuss  their  business,  and  in  the 
last  resort  submit  their  disputes  to  the  arbitration 
of  the  monarch,  who,  standing  outside  and  above 
every  party,  is  the  representative  of  the  interests  of 
the  nation  as  a  whole. 

The  history  of  the  foreign  policy  of  Germany  shows 
us  the  efforts  she  made  to  raise  herself  to  the  highest 
pinnacle  of  power  in  Europe  and  the  world.  Her 
internal  history  shows  us  the  gradual  rise  of  the 
middle  classes  and  the  proletariat  to  power,  the  con- 
flict of  German  democracy  with  the  ruler  by  divine 
right  and  the  governing  class,  which  alone  possessed 


68  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

any  real  authority  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
the  evolution  which  little  by  little  transformed  politi- 
cal institutions  and  substituted  for  the  benevolent 
despotism  of  the  era  of  enlightenment  a  system 
which,  though  strictly  monarchical,  was  also  consti- 
tutional. 

In  politics  too,  therefore,  the  growth  of  the  spirit 
of  enterprise  had  the  result  of  letting  loose  the  will 
to  power  both  among  peoples  and  parties.  It  created 
a  sort  of  potential  state  of  war  among  rival  nations 
and  rival  parties.  But  in  the  domain  of  politics,  as 
well  as  in  the  sphere  of  economics,  modern  Germany 
hopes  for  a  modification  in  this  respect.  Side  by 
side  with  the  realistic  struggle  for  power  and  material 
wealth  she  sees  the  development  of  a  new  idealistic 
spirit  striving  for  education  and  high  culture  and  an 
equitable  solution  of  the  social  problem.  And  she 
does  not  despair,  after  having  passed  through  the 
storms  of  the  nineteenth  century,  of  attaining  a 
more  stable  equilibrium,  founded  upon  the  conscious- 
ness of  solidarity  and  resulting  in  a  happy  com- 
promise between  the  principle  of  authority  and  that 
of  freedom,  between  monarchy  and  democracy. 

•  •  •  •  • 

If  we  cast  a  glance  at  the  political  condition  of 
Germany  about  1815,  just  after  the  Treaties  of 
Vienna,  we  shall  find  that  at  that  time  she  possessed 
neither  unity  nor  liberty. 

Let  us  take  the  question  of  unity  first.  The  Holy 
Roman  Empire  had  already  for  a  long  time  dragged 
out  a  purely  nominal  existence,  and  when  in  1806  it 
fell  to  bits  beneath  the  blows  of  Napoleon,  when  the 
Emperor  Francis  voluntarily  abdicated  an  absolutely 
illusory  sovereignty  and  declared  the  imperial  office 
extinct  and  obsolete,  public  opinion  accepted  without 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     69 

much  concern  the  final  fall  of  the  glorious  Empire  of  the 
Ottos  and  the  Hohenstaufen.  The  "  Mainz  Gazette  " 
restricted  itself  to  observing,  without  any  particular 
display  of  emotion,  "  that  Germany  was  no  more." 
And,  indeed,  why  should  it  have  been  upset  ?  For  a 
very  long  time  "  Germany  "  had  ceased  to  exist  in 
fact,  and  the  feudal  tie  which  bound  the  princes  to 
the  Emperor  had  lost  all  meaning.  The  imperial 
authority  no  longer  exercised  any  appreciable  influ- 
ence on  the  internal  life  of  the  various  states,  which 
were  governed  and  administered  by  sovereign  princes 
and  their  tools — officials  of  every  rank.  It  also  showed 
itself  incapable  of  securing  the  safety  of  Germany 
against  outside  aggression,  or  of  creating  and  main- 
taining an  army  able  to  protect  the  frontiers  of  the 
Empire  efficiently.  And  at  the  utmost  it  was  re- 
garded as  a  protector  which  was  at  the  same  time  a 
source  of  danger  for  the  small  states  who  were  not 
able  to  defend  themselves.  It  sheltered  them 
against  the  lusts  of  their  neighbours,  and  restricted, 
to  a  certain  extent  at  least  in  their  favour,  the 
struggle  for  existence  which  could  not  fail  to  make 
itself  felt  among  the  German  princes.  In  short,  the 
Empire  had  long  lost  all  organic  unity,  and  the  life 
had  gone  out  of  the  central  body.  Germany  was 
broken  up  into  a  number  of  independent  states, 
jealous  of  their  own  sovereignty,  devoid  of  all  feeling 
of  national  unity,  and  each  one  animated  by  the  most 
cynical  and  ferocious  spirit  of  selfish  particularism. 
The  official  fall  of  the  Empire  in  1806  only  gave  a 
public  sanction  to  a  state  of  things  which  had  long 
been  in  existence. 

The  War  of  Independence,  which  put  an  end  to  the 
Napoleonic  rule  in  Germany,  did  not  revive  either  in 
name  or  in  essence  that  Empire  whose  restoration 


70     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

patriots  and  romanticists  so  passionately  desired.  It 
is  true  that  the  Act  of  Federation,  dated  June  8, 
1815,  and  added  to  the  final  Act  of  the  Congress 
of  Vienna,  founded  a  German  Confederation.  The 
thirty-seven  sovereign  states  and  free  towns  of  Ger- 
many were  united  in  order  to  secure  the  internal  and 
external  safety  of  the  country  as  well  as  the  indepen- 
dence and  inviolability  of  the  signatory  states. 
But  no  one  exactly  knew  what  was  meant  by  "  Ger- 
many." Was  it  a  political,  a  geographical,  or  an 
ethnical  body  ?  It  was  impossible  to  say.  Kliiber, 
the  great  authority  on  federation,  maintained  that, 
properly  speaking,  the  German  Confederation  pos- 
sessed no  territory  at  all.  At  all  events,  it  had  no 
Emperor  or  even  a  recognised  head.  All  the  efforts 
made  by  diplomacy  to  group  the  small  states  round 
the  two  great  German  powers — Austria  and  Prussia — 
had  failed.  The  princes  kept  their  full  sovereign 
powers.  They  undertook,  it  is  true,  not  to  make 
war  among  themselves  and  to  bring  their  disputes 
before  the  Diet,  and  they  promised,  in  the  case  of  a 
federal  war,  not  to  enter  into  any  negotiations  with 
the  enemy  without  the  consent  of  their  brother 
princes.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  they  reserved  to 
themselves  the  right  of  concluding  private  treaties 
with  princes  outside  the  Confederation.  Germany, 
without  a  sovereign,  without  a  parliament,  without 
any  supreme  tribunal,  possessed  only  one  central 
body  in  the  shape  of  a  diet,  which  met  at  Frankfort 
under  the  auspices  of  Austria,  and  enjoyed,  in  theory, 
fairly  extensive  political  powers,  but  was  in  practice 
condemned  to  the  most  complete  impotence.  A  mere 
congress  of  ambassadors,  without  any  real  authority, 
and  completely  out  of  touch  with  the  nation,  this 
diet  was  bound  to  inaction,  because  every  important 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    71 

decision  had  to  be  passed  by  a  majority  of  two-thirds, 
or  even  unanimously,  and  also  because  it  possessed 
no  efficient  means  for  securing  the  execution  of  its 
decrees  or  of  forcing  the  compliance  of  a  rebellious 
member  of  the  Confederation. 

And  just  as  Germany  possessed  no  real  unity,  so 
also  was  she  deprived  of  liberal  institutions  of  any 
kind.  All  effective  control  was  concentrated  en- 
tirely in  the  hands  of  the  princes  and  the  officials 
who  acted  as  the  instruments  of  their  power.  As 
for  the  nation  itself,  it  was  kept  entirely  isolated 
from  politics  and  had  to  obey  the  laws  passed  by 
the  rulers  without  having  any  recognised  means 
for  making  its  wishes  known  or  respected.  The 
"  patriots,"  who  ever  since  the  negotiations  at  the 
Congress  of  Vienna,  had  endeavoured  without  success 
to  create  in  Germany  a  strong  and  respected  central 
power,  had  also  tried  to  secure  the  participation  of 
the  people  in  the  affairs  of  their  country.  Baron  von 
Stein  had  proposed  the  institution,  in  addition  to 
the  central  executive  body,  of  a  Reichstag,  which 
would  have  enjoyed  fairly  extensive  legislative  powers 
and  would  have  served  as  a  Court  of  Arbitration 
between  the  various  states  of  the  Confederation  or 
between  the  princes  and  their  diets.  But  all  the 
measures  which  aimed  at  limiting  the  absolute  power 
of  the  princes  were  rejected.  The  declaration  of  the 
rights  of  German  citizenship  which  Stein  would  have 
liked  to  introduce  into  the  Federal  Constitution  was 
finally  reduced  to  a  few  very  general  stipulations 
regarding  the  civil  rights  which  the  members  of  any 
one  state  in  the  Confederation  should  enjoy  in  the 
others.  No  political  rights  were  secured  for  the 
German  citizen  ;  article  13  only  contained  the  assur- 
ance that  "  diets  should  be  held  in  the  various  federal 


72  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

states."  With  the  exception  of  this  exceedingly 
vague  and  ill-defined  promise,  there  was  nothing  to 
show  that  the  princes  felt  disposed  to  grant  their 
subjects  any  greater  share  of  self-government  than 
they  had  done  in  the  past. 


II 

If  the  Act  of  Federation,  therefore,  disappointed 
the  hopes  of  the  patriots  who  dreamt  of  a  free  united 
Germany,  this  was  due  to  the  circumstance  that  such 
dreams  were  for  the  moment  impossible  to  realise. 
The  failure  of  the  schemes  for  unification  in  1815  can 
be  imputed  neither  to  the  ill-will  nor  the  incapacity 
of  the  negotiators  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna.  It  was 
the  inevitable  result  of  a  state  of  things  against  which 
the  desires  of  the  patriots  could  avail  nothing.  Ger- 
many remained,  in  fact,  essentially  particularistic 
at  heart.  The  princes  did  not  want  a  unity  which 
might  possibly  compromise  their  own  sovereign 
power,  and  as  Prussia  and  Austria  continued  to 
balance  each  other,  neither  country  was  strong 
enough  to  impose  her  hegemony  upon  the  rest  of 
Germany.  Let  us  examine  this  situation  a  little 
more  closely. 

In  the  first  place,  Austria  was  just  as  resolutely 
opposed  to  the  nationalist  as  she  was  to  the  demo- 
cratic movement.  The  Emperor  Francis  and  his 
Chancellor,  Metternich,  regarded  all  aspirations  for 
unity  and  liberty  as  legacies  from  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, and  opposed  them  might  and  main.  Upheld 
by  an  aristocracy  who  saw  in  an  unlimited  monarchy 
the  surest  guarantee  of  social  order,  and  seconded 
by  an  aristocratic  bureaucracy  which  confined  itself 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    73 

to  preparing  and  carrying  into  execution  the  decrees 
of  the  sovereign  without  displaying  any  will  or  free 
activity  of  its  own,  the  Emperor  enjoyed  absolute 
power,  which  he  exercised  through  the  agency  of  the 
favourite  councillors  by  whom  he  was  surrounded 
and  the  heads  of  the  various  departments  of  the 
Civil  Service.  And  he  utilised  this  power  to  fight 
the  "  revolutionary  "  spirit  in  every  shape  and  form. 
He  himself  declared  that  his  Empire  was  an  old 
house  which  would  crumble  to  bits  if  people  tried 
to  repair  it.  He  knew  that  Austria  already  possessed 
all  she  was  able  to  hold,  that  any  change  would  only 
be  for  the  worse,  and  that  her  power  was  more 
apparent  than  real ;  and  he  considered  that  under 
these  circumstances  the  system  best  calculated  to 
ensure  her  existence  was  absolute  immobility.  He 
consequently  carried  out  with  unflagging  pertinacity 
"  the  policy  of  stability  "  of  which  Metternich  had 
made  himself  the  recognised  champion  in  Europe. 

Thus  the  policy  of  Austria  always  aimed  at  sup- 
pressing everywhere  any  attempt  made  to  modify 
the  existing  state  of  affairs  in  Europe,  created  by 
treaties,  and  towards  maintaining  the  status  quo.  In 
France  she  backed  the  Bourbons  both  against 
Bonapartist  intrigues  and  democratic  agitation.  In 
Italy  she  endeavoured  to  perpetuate  her  own 
supremacy,  and  with  this  object  in  view  she  encour- 
aged the  state  of  strife  and  servitude  which  was  such 
a  heavy  weight  round  the  neck  of  that  unfortunate 
country,  and  even  countenanced  despots  as  contemp- 
tible as  the  scandalous  but  "  legitimate  "  Kings  of 
Naples.  In  Spain  she  opposed  the  efforts  of  the 
Liberals  to  re-establish  the  constitutional  government 
which  had  been  abolished  by  a  brutal  coup  d'etat. 
And  in  the  East  she  defended  the  integrity  of  the 


74  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Ottoman  Empire  both  against  Russian  lust  of   con- 
quest and  against  Greek  revolt. 

Similarly  in  Germany  she  looked  with  the  most 
profound  suspicion  upon  all  aspirations  for  unity. 
The  Austrian  Empire  is  a  heterogeneous  aggregate  of 
incongruous  elements — Germans,  Czechs,  Magyars, 
Croats,  Serbs,  Ruthenians,  Roumanians,  and  Italians 
— who  are  only  bound  together  by  a  common  bond  of 
loyalty  to  the  Crown.  Her  sovereign,  consequently, 
can  have  no  national  policy — he  can  only  have  a 
dynastic  policy.  He  does  not  feel  that  he  is  the 
representative  of  one  nation  or  of  one  race  ;  his 
only  object  is  to  enlarge  his  domain  in  every  direc- 
tion— in  Germany,  in  Poland,  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Danube,  and  in  Italy.  He  was,  therefore,  of  neces- 
sity hostile  to  any  exaltation  of  national  feeling, 
which,  in  his  territory,  could  only  prove  a  source  of 
conflict  and  a  menace  of  dissolution.  He  did  not 
trouble  his  head  about  a  German  Imperial  Crown 
which  might,  on  occasion,  become  an  inconvenient 
burden.  And,  under  these  circumstances,  he  had 
no  wish,  either,  to  see  the  formation,  between  the 
various  German  states,  of  any  efficient  and  genuine 
federal  bond.  He  was  suspicious  of  Prussia  and 
afraid  of  the  ambition  and  patriotic  enthusiasm 
which  she  displayed  so  brilliantly  in  1813.  He  had 
a  presentiment  that  this  alert  and  essentially  German 
power  would  have  an  ever-growing  influence  in  the 
bosom  of  a  strongly  organised  German  confedera- 
tion, and  he  consequently  also  refrained  from  seek- 
ing too  great  an  intimacy  with  this  disquieting  rival, 
but  tried  to  isolate  her  from  the  rest  of  Germany 
by  carefully  nursing  the  distrust  which  prevailed  in 
the  petty  states  with  regard  to  the  House  of  Hohen- 
zollern.     And,  moreover,  he  tried  to  drag  her  into 


PROBLEM    OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    75 

the  wake  of  Austrian  policy.  In  short,  his  whole 
scheme  was  systematically  aimed  at  encouraging  all 
the  centrifugal  forces  in  Germany.  At  the  Congress 
of  Vienna,  Austria  came  to  the  assistance  of  the 
particularistic  selfishness  of  the  princes,  which  re- 
sulted in  the  failure  of  the  projects  for  unity  pro- 
pounded by  Prussian  patriots  and  statesmen.  Once 
peace  was  concluded,  she  raised  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  every  effort  at  drawing  the  federal  bonds  more 
closely  together,  she  paralysed  the  action  of  the  Diet 
of  Frankfort,  she  encouraged  particularism  every- 
where, and  did  all  in  her  power  to  thwart  the  efforts 
of  Prussia  to  form  the  centre  of  a  group  of  petty 
states. 

And  just  as  the  Austrian  Government  looked  with 
no  friendly  eye  upon  any  manifestation  of  national 
feeling  in  Germany,  so  also  it  showed  itself  intract- 
ably hostile  to  all  liberal  aspirations.  It  gave  to 
Article  13  of  the  Act  of  Federation  an  interpretation 
which  deprived  it  of  all  meaning.  Instead  of  regard- 
ing it  as  a  promise  to  establish  constitutional  govern- 
ment and  a  system  of  national  representation,  it 
read  it  as  signifying  that  the  princes  would  have 
carried  out  the  requirements  of  the  article,  if  they 
preserved  or  restored  in  their  respective  states  the 
diets  of  the  old  system.  This  was  the  interpretation 
of  the  article  which  prevailed  in  the  various  states 
of  Austria,  in  which  it  consequently  remained  a 
dead  letter  and  the  old  absolutism  flourished  in  all 
its  integrity.  And  just  as  Austria  eluded  the  estab- 
lishment of  constitutional  government  in  her  own 
domains,  she  also  endeavoured  to  prevent  its  instal- 
lation elsewhere.  In  Prussia  Metternich  by  his 
diplomacy  opposed  the  liberal  tendencies  which 
made  their  appearance  among  the  King's  councillors  ; 


76  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

he  did  everything  in  his  power  to  dissuade  the  King 
from  granting  his  subjects  the  Constitution  he  had 
promised,  and  thus  contributed  largely  towards  post- 
poning, until  the  eve  of  the  Revolution  of  1848, 
the  establishment  of  constitutional  government  in 
Prussia.  In  the  same  way  he  encouraged  the 
constitutional  princes  of  Southern  Germany  in  their 
various  plots  for  carrying  out  a  coup  d'etat,  and, 
moreover,  extended  the  protection  of  Austria  to 
the  worst  despots  of  Germany — the  Princes  of 
Hesse,  the  Elector  of  Brunswick,  and  the 
King  of  Hanover.  In  short,  the  Austrian  Govern- 
ment instituted  itself  the  spiritual  gaoler  of  Germany. 
It  stifled  in  Austria  itself  all  desire  for  free  thought 
by  organising  in  intellectual  matters  an  oppressive 
and  officious  police  system  which  prevented  any 
criticism  of  the  acts  of  the  Government,  superin- 
tended all  meetings,  eavesdropped  at  every  con- 
versation, carried  on  a  rigorous  censorship  of  all 
books  and  papers,  and  paralysed  all  higher  culture 
for  years.  And  it  tried  to  extend  this  system  of 
repression  and  forced  silence  to  Germany,  and  thus 
appeared  in  the  guise  of  the  instigator  of  every  severe 
measure  directed  against  university  students  or 
"  demagogues  "  and  of  every  reactionary  attempt  to 
gag  the  press  and  limit  free  thought. 

Prussia,  although  she  too  was  a  particularistic 
state  and  subjected  to  an  absolute  monarchy,  presents 
in  many  respects  a  very  distinct  contrast  to  Austria. 

Compared  with  Austria — a  country  that  had  grown 
senile,  and  whose  real  strength  by  no  means  corre- 
sponded with  her  external  authority — Prussia  stands 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    77 

out  as  an  organised  and  disciplined  force  of  the  fore- 
most rank,  with  a  "  will  to  power  "  of  remarkable 
energy  and  exceptional  vitality.  She  was  guided  to 
her  destiny  by  a  dynasty  of  monarchs  inspired  by 
a  high  sense  of  duty,  solicitous,  above  all,  for  the 
good  of  the  State,  living  for  their  sovereign  mission 
alone  and  for  the  greatness  of  their  kingdom.  Her 
nobility,  bound  to  the  monarch  by  ties  of  the  most 
ardent  loyalty,  formed  a  military  caste,  in  which  the 
virtues  of  the  warrior  were  transmitted  from  father 
to  son.  She  possessed  an  honest  and  well-informed, 
though  occasionally  rough  and  pedantic,  Civil  Service, 
strictly  disciplined,  but  at  the  same  time  capable 
of  initiative,  heartily  devoted  to  the  King,  but  free 
from  all  servility  and  capable  of  defending,  even 
against  the  monarch  himself,  what  it  considered  to 
be  the  interests  of  the  State.  Her  national  army,  in 
a  high  state  of  efficiency,  full  of  confidence  and  en- 
thusiasm, had  proved  its  mettle  during  the  War  of 
Independence,  and  her  hardworking  and  thrifty 
population,  filled  with  an  instinct  for  obedience,  was 
sincerely  attached  to  its  princes  and  respectful  of  the 
established  order.  Such  were  the  chief  elements 
which  constituted  the  power  of  Prussia.  By  the  side 
of  an  effete  and  sensual  Austria,  mad  on  pleasure  and 
demoralised  by  a  degrading  despotism,  by  the  side 
of  the  petty  German  states,  in  which  a  high  scientific 
and  literary  culture  sometimes  flourished,  but  where 
the  more  manly  virtues  which  go  to  making  a  useful 
citizen  had  small  scope  for  development,  Prussia, 
robust  and  pugnacious,  seemed  like  a  rough  and 
stern  school  of  discipline  and  self-sacrifice  and  of 
patient  and  determined  energy. 

It  is  true  that  the  policy  of  Prussia  was  founded 
upon  a  vigorous  national  egoism.     Prussian  particu- 


78     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

larism,  which  was  extraordinarily  well  developed 
and  full  of  vitality,  had  not  the  smallest  intention 
of  sacrificing  or  subordinating  the  private  interests 
of  her  own  kingdom  to  those  of  Germany  as  a 
whole.  But  as,  in  addition  to  this,  the  Hohen- 
zollern  dynasty  was  an  exclusively  German  power, 
there  were  no  essential  differences  between  the  in- 
terests of  Prussia  and  those  of  Germany,  and  the 
former  was  consequently,  in  distinction  to  Austria, 
favourably  disposed  to  the  development  of  national 
unity.  Of  course  she  would  not  have  pushed  her 
disinterestedness  to  such  lengths  as  to  risk  com- 
promising her  independence  as  a  great  sovereign 
power.  As  an  open  rival  of  the  Hapsburgs,  she 
would  never  have  consented  to  abdicate  in  favour 
of  Austrian  hegemony,  nor  did  she  wish  to  have  laws 
dictated  to  her  by  a  confederation  dominated  by 
Austria.  But  on  condition  of  being  given  her 
legitimate  share  of  influence  in  any  such  confedera- 
tion, she  was  ready  to  support  the  formation  of  an 
effective  central  power,  and  was  anxious  that  Ger- 
man unity  should  not  remain  an  empty  phrase. 

The  patriots  who  strove  for  unity  founded  their 
strongest  hopes,  during  the  War  of  Independence, 
upon  Prussia.  And  the  Prussian  Government  on  its 
side  felt  a  certain  sympathy  for  the  Pan-German 
aspirations  of  the  patriots.  Not  that  it  ever  dreamt, 
at  the  time  of  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  of  putting 
into  practice  any  drastic  policy  of  unification. 
Leading  statesmen  like  Hardenberg  and  Humboldt 
sincerely  believed,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  partition 
into  independent  states  which  counterbalanced  one 
another  was  not  in  itself  an  evil,  and  made  Germany 
more  capable  of  becoming  the  central  nation  of  a 
Europe  founded  upon  the  principle  of  the  balance 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    79 

of  power.  But  at  the  same  time  they  admitted  the 
necessity  for  a  certain  unity.  They  disapproved  of 
the  shameless  particularism  of  the  princes,  and  when 
the  negotiations  on  the  German  Constitution  were 
being  carried  on  at  Vienna  they  pronounced  them- 
selves in  favour  of  Baron  von  Stein's  schemes  of 
unification.  They  publicly  declared  that  "  the  King 
considered  it  his  duty  as  a  sovereign  to  make  his 
subjects  join  a  federation  by  means  of  which  they 
would  form  part  of  one  German  nation."  They  did 
all  they  could  to  consolidate  the  power  of  the  new 
confederation  and  to  set  up  a  constitution  which 
should  exercise  an  effective  control  over  the  separatist 
tendencies  and  the  scandalous  selfishness  of  the  petty 
princes.  And  even  if  their  efforts  came  to  nothing 
before  the  open  opposition  of  the  princes  and  the 
covert  antagonism  of  Austria,  they  at  least,  by  their 
attitude,  conveyed  the  impression  that  Prussia  under- 
stood the  German  patriots'  ambition  for  unity  and 
sincerely  desired  to  bring  about  their  triumph  in  a 
more  or  less  near  future. 

Similarly,  Prussia  also  showed  herself,  at  least  in 
a  certain  sense  and  to  some  degree,  favourable  to 
the  liberal  aspirations  which  began  to  make  their 
appearance  about  the  same  time. 

We  know  the  general  conception  which  German 
historians  have  of  the  evolution  of  their  country  in 
the  direction  of  political  freedom.  They  describe 
the  Germans  as  a  people  who,  ever  since  the  time  of 
Tacitus,  had  been  essentially  military  and  at  every 
moment  in  their  history  had  felt  the  need  of  having 
a  chief  or  king.  But  monarchy  as  they  understood 
it  was  very  far  removed  from  despotism.  The 
sovereign,  it  is  true,  was  heard  and  respected,  as  was 
only  right  in  the  case  of  a  leader  in  war,  but  he 


80    EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN    GERMANY 

possessed  no  arbitrary  power.  His  position  was  only 
upheld  and  ratified  by  the  tacit  or  open  consent  of 
the  nation  in  arms.  The  German,  therefore,  had 
an  instinctive  tendency  to  reconcile  the  principle  of 
authority  with  that  of  the  free  initiative  of  the  sub- 
ject. He  was  full  of  respect  for  the  social  order 
established  by  tradition,  and  animated  by  the  sincerest 
feeling  of  loyalty  to  the  Crown.  Till  the  very  height 
of  the  nineteenth  century  he  preserved  his  tradi- 
tional devotion  to  the  nobility.  He  remained 
attached  to  the  past,  felt  no  desire  to  free  himself 
from  the  established  order  of  things  or  to  break  with 
the  traditions  in  which  he  saw  a  guarantee  for  the 
safety  of  the  State  and  for  the  orderly  progress  of 
civilisation.  But  he  also  wished  to  safeguard  his 
own  individual  liberty.  He  wanted  every  man,  in 
his  own  limited  sphere,  to  have  the  right  and  to  feel 
it  his  duty  to  make  a  free  use  of  his  own  spontaneous 
activity.  He  thus  aimed  at  reconciling  obedience 
with  independence,  discipline  with  free  initiative. 
He  did  not  claim  equality  for  all,  as  he  was  quite 
ready  to  admit  that  the  sphere  of  autonomy  should 
not  be  the  same  for  every  citizen.  But  neither  did 
he  admit  the  principle  of  despotism,  as  each  individual 
was  encouraged  to  give  free  exercise  to  his  power  in 
the  realm  assigned  to  him,  and  public  opinion  did 
not  willingly  tolerate  any  interference  on  the  part 
of  an  outside  authority  in  this  specially  reserved 
domain. 

From  the  political  point  of  view,  therefore,  the  natural 
inclination  of  the  German  was  not  for  the  republican 
form  of  government,  which  suppressed  the  personality 
of  the  king  and  thus  decapitated  the  national  army 
by  depriving  it  of  its  head.  Neither  did  he  demand 
a  parliamentary  system  and  the  rule  by  charter  and 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    81 

law,  under  which  all  real  power  is  placed  in  the 
hands  of  deputies  elected  by  the  nation,  and  the 
king  finds  his  authority  either  altogether  destroyed 
or  else  irreparably  reduced.  The  system  to  which 
he  gave  his  entire  sympathies  was  a  constitutional 
monarchy  under  which  authority  is  wielded  by  virtue 
of  the  agreement  between  the  will  of  the  king  and 
the  will  of  the  people. 

Now  the  transformation  of  the  old  absolute 
monarchy  into  constitutional  government  was  carried 
out  "  organically  "  in  Prussia,  and  was  accomplished 
side  by  side  with  the  development  of  the  political 
education  of  the  people.  In  proportion  as  individuals 
or  social  groups  felt  the  need  of  self-government 
awake  in  their  breasts  and  the  ability  to  guide  their 
own  destinies,  they  were  called  upon  to  play  an  in- 
creasingly active  part  in  the  life  of  the  nation. 
Immediately  after  the  defeat  at  Jena,  Prussian 
statesmen  had  the  insight  to  perceive  the  funda- 
mental reason  for  the  disaster  which  had  overtaken 
their  country.  They  realised  that  Prussia  had  come 
to  grief  under  her  old  system,  because  the  enlightened 
despotism  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  ended  by 
stifling  all  spontaneity,  because  the  serf  bound  to  the 
soil,  the  merchant  tied  to  his  trade  and  shut  up  in 
his  own  town,  and  the  noble  concerned  only  with 
the  interests  of  his  order,  had  lost  all  idea  of  national 
unity  and  had  dissociated  themselves  entirely  from 
the  commonwealth.  They  grasped  the  necessity  of 
liberating  the  nation,  step  by  step,  from  this  bureau- 
cratic system,  which,  in  the  words  of  Humboldt, 
"  made  a  machine  of  man,"  stifled  in  the  people  the 
capacity  of  acting  on  their  own  initiative,  and  caused 
the  physical  and  intellectual  downfall  of  the  State. 
They  saw  that  the  regeneration  of  the  country  de- 
6 


82     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

manded,  as  an  essential  condition,  the  reorganisation 
of  society,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  substitute 
for  the  old  Prussia  conquered  at  Jena  a  new  Prussia 
upheld,  as  revolutionary  France  had  been  upheld, 
by  the  free,  self-conscious  will  of  every  citizen ;  and 
that,  in  order  to  regain  her  rank  among  the  nations 
of  Europe,  Prussia  was  bound  to  undergo,  without 
violence,  without  bloodshed,  or  any  brutal  rupture 
with  the  past,  a  transformation  similar  to  that  which 
France  had  accomplished  during  the  storms  of  the 
Revolution. 

The  reforms  of  Stein  and  Hardenberg  began  this 
great  work  of  social  education.  By  freeing  the  rural 
population  from  serfdom  and  paving  the  way  for  the 
institution  of  a  class  of  independent  peasant  pro- 
prietors, by  suppressing  the  guilds  and  inaugurating 
the  era  of  the  complete  freedom  of  industry,  the 
Prussian  ministers  emancipated  the  country  from 
the  tutelage  to  which  she  had  been  subjected.  And 
at  the  same  time  as  Stein  led  the  people  to  freedom 
of  labour  he  also  aimed  at  making  them  accustomed 
to  self-government.  He  considered  that  the  time 
was  ripe  for  the  nation  to  be  entrusted  with  parochial 
and  local  administration.  With  this  object  in  view, 
he  gave  the  towns  a  fair  share  of  municipal  self- 
government  and  endeavoured  to  free  the  rural  com- 
munities from  the  exclusive  rule  of  the  aristocracy. 
From  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  social  ladder  it 
was  his  object  to  organise  a  system  of  co-operation 
between  the  Government  and  the  people.  In  the 
district,  the  province,  and  the  kingdom,  he  proposed 
to  establish,  in  addition  to  the  representatives  of 
royal  authority,  a  number  of  elective  diets  in 
which  the  aspirations  of  the  people  would  find  free 
expression,    and    by    means    of    which    they    could 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     83 

discuss  all  matters  of  local,  provincial,   or   national 
interest. 

It  is  possible  to  have  some  doubts  about  the  actual 
result  of  Stein's  work,  and  to  ask  to  what  extent 
he  really  succeeded  in  liberating  the  people  and  in 
putting  an  end  to  the  omnipotence  of  the  aristocracy 
and  the  officious  interference  of  the  bureaucrats.  It 
is  possible  to  cast  aspersions  upon  the  efficiency  of 
this  sytsem  of  self-government  which  he  tried  to 
introduce  into  Prussia,  and  to  maintain  that  it 
proved  incapable  of  shattering  the  aristocratic 
oligarchy,  whose  rule  still  really  kept  the  majority 
of  the  nation  in  a  state  of  servitude.  At  all  events, 
it  is  certain  that  this  great  minister,  who  was  at 
once  a  feudalist  and  a  democrat,  filled  with  a  pro- 
found respect  for  the  royal  authority  and  the  tradi- 
tional order  of  society,  hostile  to  the  constitutional 
government  and  the  centralised  administration  of 
revolutionary  or  imperial  France,  but  convinced  of 
the  necessity  of  supplanting  enlightened  despotism 
and  feudal  tyranny  by  an  ever  more  comprehensive 
system  of  popular  self-government,  was  a  true  repre- 
sentative of  that  conservative  but  not  reactionary 
spirit  which  inspired  a  large  number  of  Prussian 
statesmen  during  the  nineteenth  century.  German 
public  opinion  is  inspired  by  a  feeling  of  gratitude  to 
Stein  and  Hardenberg  for  having  put  the  feudalistic 
past  into  liquidation  and  for  having  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  a  new  society  built  on  a  basis  of  a  wide 
parochial  and  urban  self-government,  ruled  from 
above  by  the  firm  and  undisputed  authority  of  the 
sovereign  and  defended  against  all  aggression  by  a 
national  army  recruited  on  the  principle  of  com- 
pulsory military  service  for  all. 


84     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Thus  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
Germany  was  still  hopelessly  divided.  On  the  one 
side  Austria  was  trying  to  preserve  her  traditional 
hegemony  and  to  draw  the  German  princes  into  the 
orbit  of  her  own  policy.  Prussia,  on  the  other  hand, 
without  yet  aiming  at  supplanting  Austria,  was, 
nevertheless,  filled  with  the  ambition  to  increase  her 
sphere  of  influence  as  much  as  possible.  Between 
the  rival  aspirations  of  these  two  great  powers,  the 
German  princes  manoeuvred  to  the  best  of  their 
ability  to  safeguard  their  own  independence.  Their 
sovereignty  was,  as  a  rule,  purely  illusory,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  it  was  based  upon  no  real  power  and  was 
quite  unable  to  make  itself  respected  outside  its  own 
borders.  Nevertheless  the  princes  exercised  a  more 
or  less  unlimited  authority  over  their  own  subjects. 
Some  used  their  power  well  and  for  the  benefit  of  their 
country.  Some  even  showed  themselves  disposed 
to  grant  their  subjects  a  more  or  less  liberal  constitu- 
tion and  parliamentary  institutions.  Others,  on  the 
contrary,  were  merely  arrogant  and  hated  despots — 
malignant  tyrants  who  squeezed  their  subjects  shame- 
lessly and  ruined  the  country  by  crippling  it  beneath 
a  crushing  system  of  taxation,  ridiculous  puppets 
foolishly  infatuated  by  their  fictitious  majesty  and 
giving  themselves  airs  utterly  out  of  keeping  with 
their  real  power. 

But  they  were  one  and  all  filled  with  the  desire 
of  carrying  out  a  strictly  particularistic  policy.  They 
all  knew,  in  fact,  that  national  unity  could  only  be 
established  at  their  expense,  and  that  the  creation  of 
a  strong  central  power  in  Germany  must  necessarily 
level  a  blow  at  their  precarious  sovereignty.  They 
accordingly  opposed  the  movement  towards  unifi- 
cation with  might  and  main.     They  were  instinctively 


PROBLEM  OF  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY        85 

suspicious  of  Prussia,  whose  strength  they  feared 
and  whose  ambitions  they  guessed.  They  aimed, 
therefore,  at  balancing  the  two  great  powers  who 
were  fighting  for  the  hegemony  of  Germany  against 
each  other,  and  thus  hoped  to  stop  all  innovations 
which  might  strike  at  their  own  precious  indepen- 
dence. 

How,  under  these  unfavourable  conditions,  was  the 
national  organisation  of  Germany,  which  had  only 
been  sketched  in  rough  outline  by  the  diplomatists 
at  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  to  be  carried  out  ? 


CHAPTER    II 

THE  IDEALISTIC   STRUGGLE   FOR   LIBERTY   AND 

UNITY 


During  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  the 
struggle  for  German  unity  formed  part  of  the  fight 
for  political  liberty,  and  was  of  a  highly  idealistic 
nature.  The  parties  which  came  into  being  at  that 
time  fought  less  for  the  conquest  of  power  or  for  the 
realisation  of  practical  reforms  of  a  definite  character 
than  for  the  triumph  of  a  moral  doctrine — a  sort  of 
political  religion.  The  apostles  of  liberty  and  unity 
seem  generally  to  have  been  idealists  who,  in  the 
presence  of  the  worn-out  powers  of  absolute  monarchy 
and  of  feudal  or  clerical  reaction,  put  forward  the 
fundamental  claims  of  modern  subjectivism — the 
right  of  the  nation  to  self-government  and  her  demand 
to  be  consulted  upon  public  matters.  They  were 
not  so  much  party  men  with  a  definite  programme 
in  their  hands  aiming  at  securing  certain  practical 
reforms,  as  men  of  thought  who  brought  forward  a 
certain  ideal,  and  relied,  for  the  triumph  of  their 
cause,  upon  that  irresistible  power  of  persuasion 
which  a  truth  once  proclaimed  has  upon  the  minds 
of  men.  And  they  dreamt  of  founding  the  liberty 
and  unity  of  Germany  upon  the  omnipotence  of  the 
idea. 

86 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     87 

When  about  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, soon  after  the  disaster  at  Jena,  aspirations  for 
unity  began  to  make  their  appearance  in  Germany, 
they  showed  themselves  first  among  the  intellectual 
minority  of  the  nation,  and  were  closely  associated 
with  literary  and  philosophical  considerations. 

Fichte  was  the  characteristic  representative  of  the 
first  believers  in  unity.  The  German  nationality, 
according  to  him,  consisted  of  all  who  used  the 
German  language  and  shared  in  the  philosophic, 
literary,  and  religious  culture  belonging  to  the 
German-speaking  countries.  And  to  this  linguistic 
and  literary  test  he  added  a  metaphysical  and  moral 
criterion,  and  defined  the  Germans  as  the  "  primitive 
people,"  who  believed  in  the  liberty,  the  indefinite 
improvement,  and  the  eternal  progress  of  the  human 
race,  in  distinction  to  "  foreign  nations,"  who  imagine 
themselves  subjected,  and  who  really  are  subjected, 
to  universal  determinism,  who  regard  liberty  as  an 
illusion,  and  see  everywhere  nothing  but  an  inexorable 
and  unchanging  necessity.  In  Fichte's  eyes,  therefore, 
German  unity  was  essentially  a  moral  unity.  Mere 
political  unity  seemed  to  him  useless,  and  he  regarded 
the  division  of  Germany  into  independent  states  as  a 
guarantee  of  liberty,  and  would  have  considered  the 
absorption  of  the  various  states  by  any  one  of  them 
and  the  establishment  of  a  German  monarchy  as  a 
calamity.  German  unity,  he  thought,  could  only  be 
secured  by  the  growth  of  freedom.  Only  when  the 
dream  of  liberty  had  been  gradually  realised  in  the 
breasts  of  the  various  German  states,  could  a  German 
commonwealth  come  spontaneously  into  being,  un- 
shackled by  any  hereditary  ruler  or  sovereign  dynasty ; 
and  this  was  the  living  embodiment  of  the  rational- 
istic State  such  as  Fichte  conceived  of  it,  forming  in 


88  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  very  centre  of  Europe  a  formidable  but  peace- 
ful power,  able  not  only  to  make  itself  respected  by 
its  neighbours,  but  also  capable  of  imposing  peace 
upon  the  rest  of  the  world. 

We  thus  see  how  Utopian  and  how  far  removed 
from  hard  historical  reality  were  the  political  con- 
victions of  the  author  of  the  Discourses  to  the  German 
People.  And  the  most  different  minds  shared  with 
him  this  enthusiasm  for  the  great  German  nation 
and  divine  liberty.  Among  them  were  men  of  action 
like  Bliicher  and  Gneisenau,  Stein  and  Scharnhorst, 
who  fought  above  all  to  deliver  Germany  from  the 
yoke  of  France,  but  also  believed,  with  Gneisenau, 
that  "  the  triple  supremacy  of  the  army,  the  consti- 
tution, and  science  "  was  the  country's  best  defence. 
Others,  like  Gorres,  were  romanticists,  who  wedded 
in  their  minds  dreams  of  the  future  of  Germany 
with  memories  of  the  past  of  the  Teutonic  peoples 
and  longed  for  the  advent  of  a  new  Germany  which 
should  be  a  restoration  of  the  glorious  Empire  of  the 
Ottos.  In  the  Rhein  Mercury  they  preached  the 
adoption  of  compulsory  service  for  all  and  the 
abolition  of  all  internal  customs,  or  revived  Dante's 
Monarchia,  believing  that  they  could  reform  the 
institutions  of  the  nineteenth  by  the  help  of  those 
of  the  thirteenth  century.  Then  came  the  political 
dilettantes,  the  crowd  of  publicists,  who  enlarged  upon 
the  restoration  of  the  German  Empire  and  tried  to 
discover  a  practical  means  of  reconciling  the  ambi- 
tions of  Prussia  and  Austria,  or  proposed,  like  Pro- 
fessor Lips,  to  allow  the  various  German  princes  in 
succession  to  occupy  the  imperial  throne  for  a  period 
of  five  years  !  The  believers  in  unity  and  liberty 
did  not  yet  form  a  regular  party.  The  cultured 
middle  classes  of  that  period,  inexperienced  as  they 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     89 

.  .. 

were  in  politics,  saw  no  difficulty  in  reconciling  their 

old  particularistic  customs  with  vague  dreams  of  the 
restoration  of  the  Empire  or  political  emancipation. 
And  they  piled  up,  in  newspapers  and  pamphlets, 
the  most  fantastic  arguments  about  the  measures 
which  should  be  taken,  without  having  the  faintest 
notion  of  how  difficult  it  was  to  put  into  practice  the 
ideal  of  a  free  united  Germany,  which  it  was  so  easy 
to  imagine  in  the  abstract. 

Just  after  1815,  during  the  first  days  of  the  German 
Confederation,  democratic  tendencies  and  ideas  of 
unity  began  to  shape  and  assert  themselves  with 
greater  clearness  and  persistence.  The  aspirations 
of  the  "  patriots  "  spread  more  and  more  among 
university  students  belonging  to  the  Allgemeine 
Deutsche  Burschenschaft,  among  the  middle  classes 
and  the  labouring  population  of  the  west  and  south, 
and  the  intellectual  elite  of  the  whole  country. 
The  reconstruction  of  Germany  at  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  had  profoundly  disillusioned  the  whole  nation, 
and  public  opinion  naturally  placed  the  responsi- 
bility for  the  bankruptcy  of  all  the  hopes  aroused  by 
the  War  of  Independence  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
rulers.  From  that  moment  the  Liberals  fell  gradu- 
ally into  the  habit  of  contrasting  the  people  with  the 
Governments  in  order  to  exalt  the  one  and  decry 
the  other.  The  people  had  taken  up  arms  to  deliver 
Germany  trampled  underfoot  by  the  foreign  tyrant, 
The  armies  of  Napoleon  had  been  put  to  flight  by 
the  whole  nation  in  arms — the  line  regiments,  the 
Landwehr,  and  above  all  the  volunteers — who  rose  up 
as  one  man  to  free  the  country  from  oppression. 
And  behold  !  as  soon  as  the  victory  was  won,  Courts 
and  Cabinets  prevented  the  nation  from  enjoying 
the    fruits    of    its    labours.     The    diplomatists    had 


90  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

failed  to  bring  the  work  of  freedom  to  a  satisfactory 
conclusion.  They  had  left  Alsace  in  the  hands  of 
France,  who  in  the  past  had  torn  it  away  from  the 
German  Empire,  to  whose  security  it  was  indispen- 
sable ;  and  they  had  shown  themselves  incapable  of 
organising  the  material  and  moral  unity  which  the 
nation  demanded.  The  princes  had  selfishly  pre- 
vented the  formation  of  a  powerful  German  con- 
federation, and  one  and  all  had  thus  given  proof  of 
inefficiency  and  ill-will. 

The  Liberals  did  not  realise  that  their  reasoning 
rested  in  the  last  instance  upon  an  illusion. 

In  the  first  place,  they  never  imagined  that  in 
giving  to  the  "  people  "  the  credit  for  the  victories 
of  1813  they  were  the  dupes  of  a  romantic  mirage. 
The  War  of  Independence  had  not  in  any  respect  been 
a  spontaneous  popular  outburst.  On  the  contrary,  it 
had  been  prepared  with  consummate  care  a  long  time 
beforehand  by  excellent  organisers,  and  the  victories 
had  been  won,  not  by  the  volunteers,  who  always 
played  an  insignificant  part,  but  by  the  regular 
troops  levied  and  drilled  by  Scharnhorst  and  his 
colleagues.  As  Treitschke  points  out,  it  was  an 
error  and  an  injustice  to  glorify  the  work  of  the 
people  exclusively  and  pretend  to  despise  the  direct 
agents  of  freedom — the  generals,  diplomatists,  states- 
men, administrators,  and  nobles  who  had  made  the 
preparations  for  the  war  and  directed  its  course.  It 
was  also  a  mistake  to  make  the  governments  alone 
responsible  for  the  check  given  to  the  hopes  for  unifi- 
cation. The  spirit  of  particularism,  local  selfishness, 
the  hatred  between  neighbours,  were  not  invented  by 
the  Cabinets.  It  was  untrue  to  say  that  there  was 
a  conflict  at  this  time  between  the  will  of  the  people 
demanding  unity  and  the  will  of  the  princes,  who 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    91 

thrust  it  from  them  out  of  a  selfish  desire  to  preserve 
their  own  sovereignty.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was 
the  soul  of  Germany  itself  which  was  divided  be- 
tween the  desire  for  unity  and  the  accustomed 
practice  of  particularism.  A  national  parliament 
would  in  all  probability  have  proved  just  as  inca- 
pable of  bringing  about  the  unification  of  Germany 
as  the  Congress  of  diplomatists  had  been. 

But  public  opinion  did  not  give  this  verdict.  It 
found  it  more  convenient  to  cast  the  blame  upon 
the  various  governments  instead  of  saying  med  culpa 
on  its  own  part  as  well.  And  thus  there  grew  up  an 
antagonism  which  was  destined  to  last  for  a  long 
time  between  the  adherents  of  Liberalism  and  unity 
and  the  governments.  The  Liberals  grew  more  and 
more  inclined  to  regard  the  heads  of  the  states  as  selfish 
tyrants,  who  were  both  inefficient  and  ill-disposed. 
They  longed  for  the  moment  when,  in  the  words  of 
Dahlmann,  "  the  lamp  of  good  constitutions  should 
be  lighted,  before  which  the  smoky  torches  of  Cabinets 
would  grow  pale."  They  gave  vent  to  their  dis- 
content and  made  professions  of  their  democratic 
creed  in  bombastic  and  barren  manifestations  like 
the  Wartburg  and  Hambach  Festivals.  The  govern- 
ments, on  their  side,  haunted  by  the  spectre  of 
revolution,  grew  frightened  without  reason ;  they  took 
inoffensive  idealists  for  dangerous  agitators,  and 
tried  to  dam  the  democratic  flood  which  was  hurry- 
ing along  the  whole  of  the  modern  world  in  its  eddies. 
They  imagined  they  were  preserving  the  public 
peace  by  muzzling  the  press,  gagging  the  universities, 
persecuting  students  and  thinkers,  and  pursuing  the 
"  demagogues  "  with  a  brutality  as  hateful  as  it 
was  foolish. 

The  conflict  between  Liberalism  and  absolutism 


92  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

presents  rather  different  features  in  Prussia  on  the 
one  hand  and  the  South  German  states  on  the  other. 

Prussia  was,  and  has  remained,  essentially  an  abso- 
lute monarchy.  Her  kings,  Frederick  William  III. 
and  Frederick  William  IV.  possessed  the  most  lofty 
idea  of  their  sovereign  rights,  and  were  resolutely 
decided  not  to  relinquish  any  tittle  of  them. 
Frederick  William  IV.  especially  was  par  excellence 
the  monarch  by  divine  right.  He  really  believed 
himself  the  medium  through  which  God  made  known 
his  wishes  to  the  people,  and  he  therefore  listened 
to  the  voice  of  divine  inspiration  in  his  own  heart, 
and  would  have  thought  himself  lacking  in  his  first 
duty  if  he  had  given  way  before  the  advice  of  his 
councillors,  or  above  all  had  hearkened  to  the  wish  of 
the  people  when  any  great  decision  had  to  be  made. 
Abdication  on  his  part  would  have  been  treason 
against  the  nation,  as  it  would  have  deprived  it  of 
the  divine  help  it  required.  It  was  not  only  the 
right,  but  the  duty  of  the  king  to  exercise  the 
sovereign  powers  which  had  been  placed  in  his 
hands.  And,  consequently,  Frederick  William  IV. 
ruled  his  councillors  and  ministers  with  a  high  hand. 
He  regarded  them  as  subalterns,  who  have  no  business 
to  possess  a  will  of  their  own  or  to  carry  out  their 
own  designs,  but  are  merely  the  weapons  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  royal  desires.  He  treated 
them  as  servants,  whom  he  employed  as  long  as  he 
pleased,  and  could  dismiss  without  the  smallest 
scruple  when  they  no  longer  served  his  purpose,  as 
they  were  merely  human  instruments  and  adjuncts 
of  the  one,  indivisible,  everlasting,  and  divine  will 
of  the  sovereign. 

And  the  people  of  every  rank  and  station  were 
still    profoundly    impregnated    with    the    belief    in 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY    93 

monarchy.  This  faith  existed  in  the  breasts  of  the 
princes  of  the  blood — as  for  instance  in  Prince  William, 
who  expressed  his  opinions  with  the  greatest  freedom 
even  when  they  conflicted  with  those  of  the  Em- 
peror, but  gave  way  without  a  murmur  as  soon  as 
the  monarch  had  spoken.  It  existed  among  the 
officials,  who  felt  they  were  simply  the  instruments 
of  the  royal  will  ;  they  stated  their  opinions  in  all 
sincerity  without  fear  of  displeasing  the  King,  al- 
though they  felt  bound  to  serve  their  master  in  all 
circumstances,  even  if  he  decided  against  their  con- 
victions and  obliged  them  to  act  in  a  manner  of 
which  they  did  not  approve.  They  did  not  think 
they  had  the  right  of  leaving  the  service  of  the 
King  without  his  consent  ;  they  did  not  even  allow 
themselves  to  bring  pressure  to  bear  upon  his  decisions 
by  threatening  to  resign  ;  as  loyalty  demanded  of 
them,  even  if  they  were  beaten,  to  retain  office  if 
the  King  desired  it.  Like  the  ministers,  the  nobility 
had  preserved  its  loyalty  to  the  Crown  intact,  it 
remained  faithful  to  the  House  of  Hohenzollern,  and 
served  it  faithfully  either  with  the  sword  or  in  the 
royal  councils.  Among  the  people,  also,  the  attach- 
ment to  the  dynasty  was  full  of  vitality  ;  they  ful- 
filled their  duties  to  the  State  not  in  any  spirit  of 
utilitarian  selfishness  or  out  of  any  respect  for 
authority  in  the  abstract,  but  by  virtue  of  a  profound 
instinct,  which  made  them  see  in  the  King  the  in- 
carnation of  the  national  will. 

It  is  clear  that  under  these  circumstances  no  one 
dreamt  of  introducing  into  Prussia  the  system  of 
parliamentary  government  as  we  understand  it.  The 
King  of  Prussia  was  absolutely  determined  to  keep 
the  whole  of  his  power  intact  without  surrendering 
the  minutest  portion  of  it  to  the  hands  of  a  parlia- 


94     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

ment.  And  the  patriots,  too,  had  not  the  smallest 
intention  of  weakening  the  monarchy.  When  Stein 
proposed  the  establishment  of  a  State  diet  in  addi- 
tion to  the  central  government,  he  had  no  idea  of 
creating  a  new  power  in  rivalry  to  the  King  ;  he 
merely  wished  that  the  nation  should  be  associated 
with  the  free  decisions  of  the  central  power.  The 
King,  in  any  case,  remained  as  much  the  absolute 
master  of  the  diet  as  he  had  been  of  his  ministers. 
He  continued  with  his  sovereign  powers  unimpaired  to 
have  the  last  word  on  every  important  question  ; 
he  confined  himself  to  taking  counsel  with  the  diet, 
and  remained  free  to  follow  the  advice  of  his  ministers 
or  not.  Regarded  from  this  point  of  view,  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  constitution  and  representative  in- 
stitutions did  not  appear  to  the  King  and  his  ministers 
in  the  light  of  a  revolutionary  measure.  There  was 
no  question  of  limiting  the  authority  of  the  King  or 
of  creating,  as  a  counter-weight  to  the  royal  preroga- 
tive, the  rival  power  of  an  elective  assembly.  It  was 
not  even  a  question  of  bringing  into  existence  some- 
thing entirely  new.  The  future  was  to  spring  from 
the  womb  of  the  past.  The  provincial  diets,  which 
the  Prussian  Government  proposed  to  convoke,  were 
to  be  the  lineal  descendants  of  the  old  provincial 
assemblies,  which  had  once  been  conquered  by  the 
King  and  reduced  to  impotence.  And  the  general 
Landtag  of  Prussia  was  on  its  side  to  arise  out  of  the 
provincial  diets.  The  deputies  were  not  to  be 
"  elected  by  the  people,"  but  were  to  be  the  dele- 
gates of  their  peers,  of  their  "  wards,"  of  the  nobility 
and  landed  proprietors,  the  townspeople  and  the 
peasantry. 

But  if  the  proposed  Landtag  in  no  way  resembled 
the  typical  English  or   French  parliament,  the  for- 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     95 

mulating  of  a  constitution  and  the  convoking  of  that 
Landtag  were  none  the  less  a  concession  to  Liberal 
opinion  and  to  the  political  aspirations  of  the  educated 
middle  classes.  The  King  and  many  of  his  coun- 
cillors, moreover,  were  sincerely  desirous  of  con- 
necting the  people  with  the  deliberations  which  con- 
cerned the  general  interests  of  the  whole  nation. 
They  felt  that  the  people  had  attained  its  majority, 
and  that  it  was  not  possible  to  keep  it  in  leading- 
strings  for  ever.  This  sentiment  was  very  clearly 
and  precisely  defined  in  the  minds  of  statesmen, 
such  as  Hardenberg,  Humboldt,  and  Schcen,  and  the 
King  himself  was  not  opposed  to  them.  He  was  in- 
spired by  no  feelings  of  systematic  ill-will  against  the 
meeting  of  the  Landtag,  though  the  realisation  of  the 
scheme  gave  rise  to  very  great  difficulties.  In  the 
first  place,  it  was  no  easy  task  to  convoke  the  pro- 
vincial diets,  which  were  to  serve  as  the  basis  of  the 
future  Landtag.  And  it  was  still  more  difficult  to 
found  a  Landtag  which  would  not  prove  a  Prussian 
Parliament  and  a  rival  to  royal  authority,  but  would 
remain  a  purely  advisory  body,  whose  decisions  the 
King  was  in  no  sense  bound  to  ratify,  and  which  he 
was  not  even  expected  to  summon  at  any  regular 
intervals. 

Consequently  delays  arose  in  the  organisation 
of  representative  institutions,  which  irritated  and 
estranged  public  opinion.  Ever  since  May  22, 
1815,  the  King  of  Prussia  had  been  making  solemn 
promises  to  give  a  written  constitution  to  his  king- 
dom and  to  convoke  the  national  diet.  More  than 
twenty  years  passed  by  before  this  promise  was  ful- 
filled. Frederick  William  III.,  after  having  sum- 
moned and  dissolved  one  after  the  other  four  com- 
missions, which  had  been  charged  with  drawing  up 


96  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  plan  of  the  constitution,  gave  up  the  idea  of 
organising  a  national  representative  assembly  and 
confined  himself  to  creating  provincial  diets  in  each 
of  the  eight  provinces  of  his  kingdom.  And  matters 
did  not  advance  more  rapidly  under  his  successor. 
Once  again  preliminaries  dragged  on  for  years  with- 
out resulting  in  any  solution.  And  when,  in  February 
1847,  the  King  suddenly  decided  to  issue  a  patent 
grouping  the  provincial  diets  into  one  common  diet 
or  Vereinigter  Landtag,  the  concession  came  too  late. 
Liberal  opinion  was  no  longer  content  to  have  an 
assembly  whose  powers  were  purely  advisory  except 
on  the  question  of  loans,  and  which,  on  all  save 
financial  matters,  was  bound  to  hold  its  discussions 
in  two  separate  wards,  and  had  not  even  secured  the 
promise  of  being  periodically  united  in  one  body. 

During  the  long  period  of  fruitless  waiting,  the 
Prussian  Liberals,  especially  before  1840,  gave  proofs 
of  untiring  patience.  Out  of  loyalty  to  the  dynasty, 
and  also  inspired  by  a  very  comprehensible  prudence 
— as  Prussian  authorities  had  a  heavy  hand — they 
avoided  all  loud  agitation  and  took  care  not  to  indulge 
in  any  manoeuvre  which  could  possibly  be  regarded 
as  forcing  the  hand  of  the  King.  No  struggle  took 
place  between  absolutism  and  the  democratic  party. 
The  royal  authority  was  exercised  without  meeting 
with  any  organised  opposition.  Only  in  every  direc- 
tion, especially  after  1840,  signs  were  multiplied  which 
showed  that  the  cultured  and  industrial  middle 
classes  were  aspiring  more  and  more  to  have  a  say 
and  to  make  their  influence  felt  in  public  affairs. 

The  situation  in  Southern  Germany  was  very 
different. 

The  middle  states — Bavaria,  Wurtemberg,  and  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Baden— had  adopted  constitutional 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     97 

government  very  early.  There  were  various  reasons 
which  combined  to  make  the  governments  of  these 
countries  favourable  to  the  establishment  of  repre- 
sentative institutions.  In  the  first  place,  the  territory 
of  these  states  had  grown  to  such  an  extent  during 
the  Napoleonic  era  that  the  national  diets  neces- 
sarily seemed  to  present  to  the  governments  a  con- 
venient method  for  creating  a  bond  of  unity  between 
the  old  parties  and  the  lands  recently  annexed. 
Moreover,  these  three  states,  by  the  very  fact  of  their 
sudden  expansion,  and  also  because  they  had  been 
subjected  more  profoundly  than  other  parts  of  Ger- 
many to  French  influence,  had  been  led  into  making 
a  sudden  break  with  the  feudalistic  past.  The  Grand 
Duke  Charles  Frederick  and  his  successor,  the  Grand 
Duke  Charles  of  Baden,  the  Bavarian  Minister, 
Montgelas,  and  King  Frederick  I.  of  Wurtemberg, 
had  abolished,  not  without  brutality  in  some  cases, 
the  majority  of  the  privileges  of  the  nobility  and  the 
clergy,  and  had  aimed  at  making  the  principle  of 
equal  rights  for  all  before  the  law,  and  the  duty  of 
every  man  to  contribute  to  State  expenses,  supreme. 
And  in  this  task  of  social  transformation  they  felt 
themselves  forced  to  rely  upon  public  opinion.  Lastly, 
diets  and  constitutional  government  appeared  to 
the  various  sovereigns  in  the  light  of  a  possible  prop 
to  particularistic  sentiments,  as  a  means  of  distracting 
the  public  mind  from  the  dangerous  chimera  of 
unity,  and  as  a  last  defence  against  the  desire  for 
unification  on  the  part  of  the  Confederation.  Under 
these  circumstances,  when  in  1815  the  princes  found 
themselves  menaced  by  the  Confederation  with  the 
danger  of  being  forced  into  convoking  a  diet  and 
drawing  up  a  constitution,  they  hastened  to  be  the 
first  in  the  field  and  to  promise  on  their  own  initiative 
7 


98    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

to  give  their  subjects  free  institutions.  Thus  con- 
stitutional government  was  established  in  the  south 
of  Germany  much  earlier  than  in  Prussia.  And  from 
that  moment  Prussia  was  regarded  by  the  Liberals 
as  the  home  of  reaction,  as  a  country  which  was 
behind  the  times,  and  the  classic  territory  of  lordlings 
and  dragooning. 

German  historians,  as  a  rule,  have  a  low  opinion  of 
these  southern  states,  which  boasted  of  having  set  an 
example  of  Liberalism  to  the  rest  of  Germany.  They 
consider  that  their  political  development,  to  use 
a  hackneyed  expression,  was  "  inorganic."  Their 
institutions  were  not,  as  in  the  case  of  Prussia,  the 
natural,  spontaneous,  and  necessary  result  of  the 
national  growth.  In  fact,  all  the  middle  states  of  the 
South  had  come  under  the  influence  of  France,  both 
during  the  Napoleonic  era  and  later — more  especially 
in  1830.  Some,  like  Bavaria,  had  purely  and  simply 
aped  the  institutions  and  administration  of  France. 
Others — that  is  to  say,  nearly  all  the  states  which  had 
a  constitution  and  representative  government  before 
1848 — had  felt  the  same  influence  more  indirectly,  but 
none  the  less  surely.  The  characteristic  they  all  had 
in  common  was  the  fact  that  they  were  governed  not 
by  their  own  native  institutions,  but  by  a  system 
imported  from  abroad. 

Now  in  states  like  England,  whose  growth  has  been 
"  organic,"  public  safety  has  as  its  basis  and  guarantee 
the  regular  working  of  the  fundamental  institutions 
of  the  nation,  the  administration  by  rural,  urban,  and 
provincial  councils.  The  line  of  demarcation  between 
the  royal  authority  and  that  of  the  people,  between 
the  functions  of  the  central  Government  and  that 
of  the  autonomous  local  administrations,  has  been 
settled  by  practice  and  by  virtue  of  the  experience  of 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     99 

long  periods.  In  "inorganic"  states,  on  the  con- 
trary, these  relations,  instead  of  being  regulated  by 
elastic  living  customs  and  by  an  unwritten  law, 
come  under  the  jurisdiction  of  a  legal  compact  and  a 
code  of  judicial  obligations  on  the  part  of  the  monarch 
towards  the  State.  The  free  sovereign  will  of  the 
prince  is  obliged  to  bow  before  the  decrees  of  strict 
rule  and  imperative  law.  A  sheet  of  paper,  to  use 
the  well-known  words  of  Frederick  William  IV.,  is 
placed  between  the  King  and  his  people.  Thus  a 
system  of  mutual  confidence  between  a  prince  and 
his  subjects  gives  place  to  a  dry  and  barren  legal 
formality. 

The  principalities  of  Southern  Germany  are  "  in- 
organic "  states  of  precisely  this  type.  The  middle 
class,  which  formed  the  Liberal  or  Radical  parties  in 
them,  was  not  an  active  living  body  endowed  with 
organising  powers  which  it  wished  to  make  supreme. 
It  merely  saw  salvation  in  some  abstract  theory  of  a 
constitutional  state,  and  in  a  number  of  political 
formulae  borrowed  from  abroad,  which  did  not 
adequately  reflect  a  real  condition  of  things.  Its 
leaders  were  doctrinaires  mounted  on  the  hobby- 
horse of  constitutional  dogmatism,  living  in  a  very 
narrow  sphere,  and  devoid  of  all  experiences  or  breadth 
of  view.  Quite  incapable  of  formulating  a  practical 
programme  to  serve  as  a  basis  for  the  public  life  of 
that  "  Great  Germany  "  of  which  they  dreamt,  they 
drew  up  beautiful  plans  in  abstracto  for  a  future  which 
could  never  be  realised  in  practice,  and  showed  them- 
selves clumsy  in  carrying  out  reforms  that  were 
actually  possible.  And  these  idealists,  wedded  to 
their  belief  in  abstract  ideas,  these  theorists  in  love 
with  barren  legal  formalities,  made  grave  mistakes  in 
their  estimate  of  the  forces  which  were  making  them- 


100  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

selves  felt  in  the  political  evolution  of  Germany.  They 
remained  cosmopolitan  until  after  1830,  whilst  the 
country  was  developing  more  and  more  in  the  direc- 
tion of  nationalism.  They  were  hostile  to  standing 
armies,  which  they  regarded  as  the  mainstays  of 
despotism  and  schools  of  servitude,  whilst  Prussia 
was  destined  to  found  her  greatness  precisely  on  her 
military  prowess,  and  Germany  was  to  grow  more 
and  more  accustomed  to  looking  upon  the  national 
army  as  the  great  training  school  of  civic  unity  and 
morality.  They  hated  the  hereditary  nobility,  whose 
ruin  and  extinction  they  prayed  for  at  a  time  when 
the  aristocracy  had  just  played  a  leading  and  glorious 
part  in  the  War  of  Independence,  and  was  to  keep  for 
some  time  longer,  especially  in  Prussia,  a  position 
of  the  highest  importance  in  the  life  of  the  nation. 
They  often  professed  a  pedantically  narrow  rationalism 
and  despised  "  the  barbarism  of  the  Middle  Ages  " 
at  a  moment  when  the  romantic  spirit  had  everywhere 
awakened  the  love  of  the  nation's  past  and  a  religious 
revival  was  making  itself  felt  in  the  breasts  of  Pro- 

&testants  and  Catholics  alike. 
Nevertheless,  we  may  perhaps  be  allowed  not  to 
accept  without  some  reservations  the  harsh  judg- 
ment which  the  historical  school  usually  passes  upon 
Liberalism.  It  is  true  that  the  Liberals  did  not  foresee 
the  turn  events  were  to  take.  With  rare  excep- 
tions, they  neither  guessed,  desired,  nor  prepared  for 
the  conquest  of  Germany  by  Prussia  and  the  rise  of 
German  imperialism  in  the  second  half  of  the  century. 
As  advocates  of  peace  and  cosmopolitans,  as  supporters 
of  friendship  between  France  and  Germany,  and  dis- 
approving of  the  fratricidal  struggle  between  nations 
for  political  power,  they  misread  the  signs  of  the 
times.     They  were  wrong  in  saying  with  Heine  that 


i 


j*/y 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     101 

"  in  Europe  there  were  no  longer  any  nations,  but  only- 
parties  "  ;  they  were  wrong  in  prophesying  the  advent 
of  a  great  German  revolution  which  should  sweep 
away  kings  and  aristocracies  and  in  dreaming  of 
securing  for  Germany  a  supremacy  which  should  be 
chiefly  spiritual.  But  their  idealistic  efforts  in  the 
cause  of  democracy,  as  we  shall  see  later  on,  were  not 
devoid  of  influence  upon  the  course  of  events.  And 
if  a  united  empire  is  not  the  final  goal  of  Germany's 
ambition,  if  it  proves  to  have  been  only  a  transitory 
stage  in  her  evolution,  and  if  she  ever  revives  her 
humanitarian  dreams  of  the  beginning  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  Liberals, 
in  spite  of  their  mistakes  and  their  narrowness,  will 
one  day  be  recognised  as  the  first  champions  in  Ger- 
many of  a  better  future,  of  an  era  of  peace  and  good 
will,  in  which  the  bloody  strife  of  nations  shall  give 
way  to  a  universal  desire  for  progress  and  happiness. 

II 

Nevertheless,  about  1840  a  split  took  place  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Liberal  Party. 

On  the  one  side  the  section  which  believed  in 
nationalism  and  unity,  with  which  Liberalism  had 
from  the  first  been  associated,  forced  itself  to  the 
front  for  various  reasons.  This  was  due  in  the  first 
place  to  the  accession  of  Frederick  William  IV.,  who 
by  his  grandiloquent  rhetoric  fanned  into  a  blaze  the 
flame  of  national  sentiment  and  the  romantic  cult  of 
the  past  of  the  Teutons.  At  the  same  time,  the  war- 
like ambitions  which  showed  themselves  in  France  in 
1840,  when  she  found  herself,  by  the  London  Con- 
vention, excluded  from  the  concert  of  Europe  and 
rudely  checkmated  in  her  designs  on  Egypt,  provoked 


102  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

an  extraordinary  outburst  of  patriotism  throughout 
the  whole  of  Germany.  In  the  first  moment  of 
anger  and  vexation  France  had  rashly  declared  her- 
self ready  to  resume  the  struggle  against  the  Holy 
Alliance.  French  publicists  denounced  the  treaties 
of  1815,  demanded  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  and 
threatened  Europe  in  arms  to  play  "  the  terrible 
game  of  revolution  "  against  her.  Germany,  who 
was  living  in  the  most  profound  peace,  and  had 
no  idea  of  picking  a  quarrel  with  France,  suddenly 
saw  rising  before  her  eyes  the  menace  of  a  war  which 
she  had  done  nothing  to  provoke.  She  was  angry  at 
the  idea  that  France  should  put  forward  the  preten- 
sion of  finding  compensation  on  the  Rhine  for  her 
disappointment  over  her  Egyptian  policy.  The  pas- 
sions of  1813  blazed  forth  more  fiercely  than  before. 
Journalists  and  poets,  writers  and  soldiers,  fulminated 
against  the  immorality  of  France,  preached  a  war 
without  quarter  against  the  sinning  nation,  and 
demanded  the  restoration  of  Alsace-Lorraine.  Con- 
vinced that  the  hereditary  foe  was  preparing  to  re- 
open the  everlasting  conflict  for  the  possession  of  the 
Rhine,  the  Germans  were  fired  afresh  with  aspirations 
for  unity.  They  felt  the  necessity  for  combining  to 
resist  aggression  and  to  win  back  the  imperial  lands 
which  still  remained  in  the  hands  of  France. 

Liberalism,  which  had  before  been  cosmopolitan 
and  sincerely  sympathetic  with  France,  became  from 
that  moment  strictly  nationalistic.  In  vain  did  Heine 
protest  against  the  outburst  of  Chauvinism,  which 
he  regarded  as  a  foolish  return  to  the  spirit  of  the 
past.  He  grew  angry  with  the  "  phrase-mongering 
patriotism  "  of  poets,  who  enlisted  their  Muse  in  the 
service  of  the  good  cause  and  degraded  her  into  a 
cantiniere  of  liberty  or  the  washerwoman  of  Christian 


//Vu^t->t 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY     103 

Teutonism.  In  the  figure  of  Atta  Troll,  the  dancing 
bear,  he  caricatured  the  new  type  of  the  convinced 
democratic  patriot,  the  nationalistic  and  religious 
acrobat.  He  asserted  his  inviolable  attachment  to 
France  and  combated  with  all  his  passionate  ardour 
the  spirit  of  imperialism,  greedy  for  war  and  conquest, 
which  he  saw  appearing  among  his  countrymen.  It 
was  of  no  use.  He  remained  an  isolated  figure.  On 
the  whole,  Liberalism  developed  along  the  lines  of  a 
decided  imperialism,  which  longed  ever  more  pas- 
sionately for  the  unity  and  strength  of  Germany* 
The  "  Liberal  "  became  the  "  National  Liberal." 

At  the  same  time,  the  advanced  wing  of  the  party 
progressed  to  a  more  absolute  form  of  Radicalism. 
During  the  'thirties  democratic  aspirations  demanded 
little  more  than  the  establishment  of  a  constitutional 
monarchy.  After  1840  they  more  frequently  aimed  at 
uncompromising  republicanism.  In  Prussia  the  policy 
of  drastic  repression  and  clumsy  reaction  inaugurated 
by  Frederick  William  IV.,  after  a  short  period  of 
liberal  ambitions,  profoundly  irritated  public  opinion. 
The  strict  measures  taken  against  the  press  and 
against  political  poets,  the  pedantic  despotism  with 
which  the  Minister  Eichhorn  weighed  down  the 
universities  and  scholastic  establishments,  the  merci- 
less severity  with  which  every  democratic  manifesta- 
tion was  suppressed,  made  the  Government  more 
and  more  unpopular.  Liberal  opinion  showed  itself 
particularly  hostile  even  to  the  person  of  the  King, 
whom  it  regarded,  not  without  reason,  as  responsible 
for  the  absolutist,  feudalistic,  and  revivalist  reaction 
which  was  again  let  loose  in  Prussia.  Anti-religious 
and  anti-monarchical  Radicalism,  as  it  was  preached  by 
Strauss,  the  Bauer  brothers,  Arnold  Ruge,  Karl  Marx, 
and  Feuerbach,  gained  ground  every  day.   At  the  same 


104  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

time,  a  band  of  political  poets  like  Hoffmann  von 
Fallersleben,  Dingelstedt,  Freiligrath,  Meissner,  Karl 
Beck,  Gottfried  Kinkel,  and  others  passionately 
espoused  the  cause  of  the  people  and  of  liberty  and 
hurled  inflammatory  appeals  across  Germany.  The 
hostility  against  the  King  rose  to  such  a  pitch  that 
when  Tschech  attempted  to  assassinate  Frederick 
William  IV.  public  opinion  was  inclined  to  excuse  the 
murderer,  whilst  some  even  went  so  far  as  to  write 
lofty  apologies  for  regicide. 

Whilst  in  Prussia  the  opposition  to  the  King  in- 
creased in  violence  every  day,  in  the  constitutional 
states  of  the  South  also  the  conflict  between  the 
democratic  chambers  and  the  reactionary  ministers 
grew  ever  more  acute.  In  the  province  of  Baden 
especially  the  struggle  against  the  Government  became 
resolute.  In  addition  to  the  constitutional  Liberals 
like  Welcker,  Bassermann,  and  Karl  Mathy,  there 
rose  up  a  Radical  Party  under  the  leadership  of 
Hecker,  Struve,  and  Itzstein,  who  preached  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  pure  democracy,  for  which  the  country 
was  far  from  ripe.  This  party  tried  to  make  the 
electors  suspicious  of  the  moderation  of  the  con- 
stitutionalists, and  by  an  inflammatory  propaganda 
kept  alive  a  dangerous  spirit  of  discontent  among  the 
masses.  When  the  February  Revolution  broke  out 
in  Paris,  Germany  also  was  in  a  state  of  seething 
ferment.  Liberals  of  all  shades,  believers  in  unity 
or  constitutionalists,  Radicals  or  Socialists,  were  all 
agreed  that  the  existing  state  of  things  in  Germany 
could  not  continue,  and  that  profound  reforms  were 
necessary  in  order  to  give  the  country  the  unity  and 
liberty  of  which  it  stood  so  sorely  in  need. 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY      105 

III 

The  Revolution  of  1848  in  France  was  immediately 
followed  in  Germany  by  a  general  conflagration.  In 
the  space  of  a  few  weeks  a  good  third  of  the  country 
was  plunged  into  a  sort  of  anarchy,  which  was,  how- 
ever, of  a  fairly  pacific  nature,  as,  in  view  of  the 
unanimity  of  the  movement,  the  authorities  scarcely 
made  any  attempt  at  resistance. 

The  princes  got  frightened  and  gave  way.  The 
King  of  Wurtemberg,  the  Grand  Dukes  of  Baden  and 
Hesse,  and  the  Senate  of  Frankfort  hastened  to  decree 
the  liberty  of  the  press.  The  Diet  of  Frankfort  lost 
its  head,  decided  upon  a  revision  of  the  Act  of  Federa- 
tion "  on  really  national  lines,"  and  invited  the  govern- 
ments to  send  delegates  to  discuss  this  revision.  Dis- 
orders broke  out  in  Munich,  resulting  on  March  20  in 
the  abdication  of  King  Ludwig  I.  and  the  accession 
to  power  of  Maximilian  II.  and  a  Liberal  Cabinet. 
In  Vienna  the  Revolution  broke  out  on  May  13,  and 
swept  away  the  system  of  Metternich  ;  Hungary  and 
Italy  rose  at  the  same  moment.  In  Berlin  the  rum- 
blings of  insurrection  were  heard  in  the  streets  on 
March  18,  and  on  the  19th  the  retreat  of  the  troops 
put  the  King  and  the  capital  in  the  hands  of  the 
insurgents.  Everywhere  absolutism  was  foundering. 
At  the  head  of  the  movement  marched  the  educated 
middle  classes — professors,  writers,  lawyers,  doctors, 
merchants,  and  industrialists — demanding  unity  and 
liberty.  Their  fundamental  claims  were  the  con- 
vocation of  a  national  jtarliament,  tfie  liberty  of  the 
press,  the  institution  of  trial  by  jury,  and  the  sub- 
stitution of  the  nation  in  arms  for  a  standing  army. 
In  the  very  ranks  of  this  great  Liberal  Party  there 
were,  moreover,   sections  which  were  more  or  less 


106  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

advanced,  the  more  moderate  ones  counting  on  the 
help  of  the  established  authorities — the  kings  and 
princes — to  bring  the  reforms  to  a  satisfactory  conclu- 
sion ;  others,  more  radical,  insisting  upon  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  republic  and  the  abolition  of  rank  and 
royalty.  Behind  the  middle  classes  the  masses  of  the 
people  rose  up,  demanding,  in  addition  to  political 
reforms,  social  changes,  which  were  to  bring  universal 
happiness  ;  equality  for  all,  the  abolition  of  the 
privileges  of  the  large  landed  proprietors  in  the 
country  districts,  the  reform  of  the  industrial  system 
in  the  towns,  the  protection  of  the  artisan  against  the 
competition  of  the  factory  owner,  and  of  the  factory 
hand  against  the  exploitation  of  his  employer. 

All  this  revolutionary  movement  resulted  in  the 
meeting  of  the  Parliament  of  Frankfort,  whose 
convocation  was  demanded  and  its  organisation  pre- 
pared by  the  people  themselves  and  the  men  in 
whom  they  trusted.  The  governments,  reduced  to 
impotence,  did  not  direct  the  movement ;  but  they 
countenanced  the  meeting  of  the  Parliament,  sanc- 
tioned the  elections,  and  allowed  representatives 
chosen  by  universal  suffrage  to  come  together  in 
order  to  discuss  the  general  interests  of  the  country 
and  offer  their  assistance  to  the  princes  who  had 
been  swamped  in  the  floods  of  revolution.  In  a 
moment  German  Liberalism  had  become  a  power, 
and  found  itself  in  a  position  to  carry  its  pro- 
gramme into  practice.  The  result  of  the  attempt 
is  well  known.  It  ended  in  the  complete  confusion 
of  the  Liberals.  On  May  18,  1848,  the  Parliament 
met  at  Frankfort.  At  the  beginning  of  June  1849 
the  remnants  of  the  Rumpfparlament  of  Stuttgart 
melted  away  after  having  at  their  last  meeting  at  the 
Marquardt    Hotel   launched   forth  a  call   to   insur- 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY      107 

rection.  Anol  as  soon  as  the  autumn  came  the  forces 
of  reaction  once  more  triumphed  throughout  Ger- 
many. What  were  the  meaning  and  scope  of  this 
crisis  ? 

In  the  first  place,  what  did  the  Liberal  middle 
classes  want  ? 

Firstly,  it  is  clear  that  they  did  not  want  to  take 
the  government  of  the  country  directly  into  their 
owjn  hands.  The  extreme  Radicals  had  understood 
perfectly  well  that  if  the  people  wanted  to  secure 
power,  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  lay  hands  on 
the  instruments  of  authority — the  Civil  Service  and 
the  army.  Consequently,  after  the  preliminary 
meeting  at  Heidelberg,  the  Radicals  of  Baden  de- 
manded the  proclamation  of  a  republic.  And  at  the 
preliminary  meeting  of  the  Vorparlament  at  Frank- 
fort, Struve  proposed  the  abolition  of  monarchy  in 
all  the  German  states  and  the  substitution  of  freely 
elected  parliaments,  each  of  which  should  nominate 
its  own  president.  Germany  was  to  become  a 
federation  modelled  on  the  United  States.  In  the 
meantime,  whilst  the  transformation  was  being  pre- 
pared, the  national  Parliament  was  to  declare  itself 
permanent  and  take  the  executive  power  into  its 
own  hands.  But  the  Radicals  were  in  a  minority, 
both  in  the  Parliament  and  in  the  country.  Parlia- 
ment defeated  their  revolutionary  proposals  by  over- 
whelming majorities.  And  when  they  wanted  to 
make  an  appeal  to  arms,  it  soon  became  apparent 
that  they  were  few  in  numbers  and  that  their  ill- 
disciplined  bands,  badly  organised  and  still  more 
badly  conducted,  were  no  match  for  the  regular 
forces.  The  democratic  revolution  was  vanquished 
by  force  of  arms  in  Berlin,  Vienna,  Hungary,  the 
province  of  Baden,  and  Dresden.     The  little  group  of 


n 


108    EVOLUTION    OF   MODERN    GERMANY 

German  republicans,  unable  to  draw  into  their 
ranks  the  bulk  of  the  moderate  Liberal  Party,  and 
ill-supported,  on  the  other  hand,  by  the  mass  of 
the  people,  who  had  no  discipline  and  no  cohesion, 
finally  proved  too  weak  to  seize  power  and  create  a 
new  political  and  social  organisation  in  Germany. 

Consequently  the  Liberal  majority,  both  in  Parlia- 
ment and  in  the  country,  remained  royalist.  It  did 
not  wish  to  strip  the  sovereigns  of  their  power,  and 
had  no  intention  of  taking  their  place,  but  aimed 
simply  at  putting  them  under  the  control  of  a 
constitutional  and  parliamentary  system.  Now  the 
princes  represented  the  only  effective  and  organised 
force  remaining  in  Germany.  It  is  true  their  power 
had  been  weakened  and  shaken  by  the  disturbances 
of  March  1848.  But  it  still  existed.  And  it  rested 
upon  a  double  foundation,  one  which  was  both  moral 
and  material.  On  the  one  hand,  in  spite  of  every- 
thing the  sentiment  of  loyalty  to  the  Crown  still 
remained  alive  in  the  hearts  of  a  considerable  fraction 
of  the  people,  and  German  public  opinion  would  have 
been  loth  to  see  the  old  reigning  houses  swept  away 
by  the  revolutionary  whirlwind.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  princes  still  had  in  their  own  hands  the 
instruments  of  power,  which  formed  the  chief  advan- 
tage they  possessed  ;  the  army  and  the  Civil  Service 
almost  everywhere  remained  resolutely  loyal.  Thus 
they  had  at  their  command,  in  order  to  make  them- 
selves obeyed,  the  civil  and  military  machinery  of 
the  State,  which  they  could  set  in  motion  whenever 
they  pleased. 

But  the  Parliament,  which  had  been  born  from  the 
will  of  the  people,  had,  for  its  part,  a  purely  moral 
influence.  Its  strength  consisted  in  the  weakness  of 
the   governments.     The  more  the   authority  of   the 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY      109 

princes  was  lessened  by  the  disorders,  the  more  did 
the  machinery  of  the  State  become  useless  owing  to 
the  confusion  in  the  streets,  and  the  more  also  did 
the  power  of  Parliament  seem  something  positive 
and  real.  But  apart  from  its  moral  credit,  Parlia- 
ment had  no  weapon  at  its  disposal  to  secure  the 
execution  of  its  wishes.  It  was  free  to  decree  its 
own  sovereignty,  to  appoint  a  Chancellor  of  the 
Empire,  to  form  its  ministries,  to  pass  laws,  and  to 
promulgate  a  constitution.  But  for  its  decisions  to 
be  carried  into  effect,  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  be 
accepted  by  the  governments,  failing  which  they 
remained  a  dead-letter  and  purely  Platonic  mani- 
festations. The  sovereign  Parliament  could,  to  give 
a  concrete  example,  decree  that  the  federal  troops 
should  wear  a  red,  black,  and  gold  cockade ;  its 
Minister  of  War  could  give  an  order  that  on  August  6, 
1848,  there  should  be  a  grand  parade  of  all  the  im- 
perial forces,  who  were  to  give  three  cheers  for  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Empire — the  supreme  head  of  the 
whole  imperial  army.  But  it  had  no  means  of 
forcing  the  obedience  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  the 
King  of  Prussia,  the  King  of  Bavaria,  and  the  Elector 
of  Hanover  ;  and  these  princes,  for  their  part,  paid 
no  heed  to  its  decisions,  and  thus  publicly  proved 
the  weakness  of  that  central  authority,  which  had 
not  the  power  necessary  to  make  itself  respected. 

Under  these  circumstances,  only  one  alternative 
remained  open  to  Parliament,  if  it  wished  to  attain 
any  practical  results  ;  and  this  was  to  come  to  an 
understanding  with  the  governments. 

Parliament  made  an  attempt  to  do  this.  Guided 
by  a  sure  political  instinct,  it  knew  that  German 
unity  was  the  one  goal  to  be  attained,  and  that  the 
process  of  unification  could  be  carried  out  only  by 


110    EVOLUTION    OF   MODERN    GERMANY 

means  of  Prussia.  It  therefore  decided  to  offer  most 
solemnly,  in  the  name  of  the  whole  German  people, 
the  Imperial  Crown  to  Frederick  William  IV.  We 
know  the  ill-success  with  which  this  attempt  was 
met.  For  a  variety  of  reasons — dislike  of  accepting 
from  plebeian  hands  a  "  Crown  of  the  stones  of 
barricades,"  antipathy  for  the  democratic  constitu- 
tion, which  would  have  to  be  accepted  at  the  same 
time  as  the  imperial  sceptre,  scruples  about  profiting 
by  the  embarrassment  of  Austria  to  turn  her  out  of 
Germany,  fear  of  the  war  into  which  the  acceptance 
of  empire  might  lead  Prussia — Frederick  William 
refused  the  Crown  which  was  offered  to  him.  The 
verdict  of  history  upon  the  act  is  faltering.  Some 
see  in  his  refusal  an  inevitable  necessity.  They  admit 
that  the  King  of  Prussia  could  not  have  held  his 
throne  as  a  gift  from  an  assembly  which  had  no 
regular  mandate,  and  that  if  he  had  accepted  it  he 
would  have  been  involved  in  an  adventure  in  which 
he  might  have  risked  his  crown  and  perhaps  the 
future  of  Germany.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  are  of 
the  opinion  that  owing  to  absolutist  prejudices  he 
prevented  German  unity,  created  by  the  free  vote 
of  a  national  parliament,  from  becoming  a  reality. 
They  maintain  that  if  the  King  had  taken  into  his 
hands  the  sceptre  held  out  to  him,  German  unity 
would  have  come  peacefully  into  existence  on  a 
grander  and  more  magnificent  scale  than  ever  before. 
But,  whether  we  put  the  blame  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  Parliament  or  of  the  King,  the  fact  remains  that 
the  co-operation  required  between  the  National 
Assembly  and  the  Prussian  Crown  could  not  be 
secured,  and  this  meant  the  inevitable  failure  of  the 
whole  policy  of  the  Parliament. 

It  must  be  added  that  if  this  check  was  perhaps 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY       111 

largely  due  to  the  mistakes  of  individuals,  it  also 
arose  to  a  great  extent  out  of  far  more  general  causes. 

The  Parliament  failed,  in  the  first  instance,  because 
it  was  intrinsically  impossible  to  find  a  solution 
which  could  reconcile  the  conflicting  interests  in- 
volved. On  nearly  every  fundamental  question 
German  public  opinion  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  hope- 
lessly divided.  What  with  believers  in  unity  and 
particularists,  Conservatives,  Liberals,  and  Radicals, 
the  partisans  of  a  "  Great  Germany,"  including 
Austria,  and  the  upholders  of  a  "  Little  Germany," 
excluding  her  from  the  Empire,  it  was  extremely 
difficult  to  come  to  any  understanding.  The  result 
was  that  precisely  the  most  important  decrees  of  the 
Parliament  were  passed  by  bare  majorities.  When, 
for  example,  Parliament,  after  having  previously 
come  to  a  contrary  decision,  decided  at  the  third 
reading  on  March  27,  1849,  by  a  majority  of  four 
votes,  that  there  should  be  an  hereditary  Emperor 
of  Germany,  and  on  March  28  nominated  the  King 
of  Prussia  to  this  dignity  by  290  votes  to  248,  it  is 
clear  that  the  moral  weight  of  such  a  decree  was  very 
small,  and  that  there  was  little  chance  of  its  imposing 
itself  finally  upon  German  public  opinion. 

But  the  most  fundamental  reason  for  the  failure 
of  the  Parliament,  and  the  one  which  German  his- 
torians are  generally  agreed  in  advancing,  must  be 
looked  for  in  the  character  of  the  men  who  found 
themselves  at  the  head  of  the  movement.  Many  of 
the  leaders  of  German  Liberalism  were  apparently 
men  of  thought,  who  aimed  with  ardent  enthusiasm 
at  the  realisation  of  a  theoretical  ideal,  rather  than 
political  minds  endeavouring  to  reach  the  practical 
attainment  of  a  definite  object.  And  this  fact  is 
easily  explained  if  we  examine  the  general  evolution 


112  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

of  the  middle  classes  in  Germany.     During  the  first 
half  of  the  century  it  was  the  intellectual  minds,  the 
men  of    high  culture,  and  especially  the  university 
professors,   who   held   the  most   important   position 
and   played  the   chief  part.     The  middle   class  was 
still    essentially    a    cultured    ilite.     The    capitalist 
middle  class  and  the  aristocracy  of  enterprise  were 
only  in  the  course  of  formation  and  still  took  but  a 
small  share  in  public  life.     Now  the  German  thinker 
of  that  period  was  fundamentally  an  idealist.     He 
believed  in  the  omnipotence  of  the  idea,  which,  once 
it  had  been  grasped,  is  bound  to  be  realised  by  virtue 
of   the    irresistible    immanent    power    of   expansion 
possessed  by  truth.     He  consequently  regarded  the 
foundation  of  German  unity  as  a  theoretical  problem, 
the  solution  of  which  was  to  be  found  in  beautiful 
academic  discussions.    He  did  not  clearly  realise  that 
this  question  was  above  all  made  up  of  a  conflict  of 
forces,  and  could  only  be  solved  by  an  appeal  to  force 
— "  by  fire  and  steel,"  to  use  Bismarck's  expression. 
This  idealistic  temperament,  prevalent  among  a  large 
number  of  the  members,  provides  an  explanation  of 
some  of  the  mistakes  with  which  the  Parliament  has 
often   been   reproached,    such   as   the   abstract   and 
doctrinaire  character  of  its  debates,  the  facility  with 
which  it  believed  that  a  division  was  quite  capable 
of  solving  every  difficulty  and  settling  all  disputes, 
the    rashness    with    which    it    passed    measures   on 
principle,  without   thinking  whether   their  practical 
realisation  was  possible.     The  Parliament  of  Frank- 
fort sought  with  a  touching  sincerity  and  ardour, 
with    a    profoundly    impressive    good    faith,    for    a 
scheme  of  German  unity,  and  it  believed  that  the 
moment  it  had  hit  upon  a  plan,  unity  would  at  once 
be   realised.     This   was   a   dangerous   illusion.     The 


STRUGGLE  FOR  LIBERTY  AND  UNITY      113 

historians  of  to-day  try  to  render  justice  to  the 
generous  effort — which  was  perhaps  less  barren  than 
it  was  long  thought  to  be — of  these  idealists.  They 
allow  that  they  too  helped  in  the  building  of  the 
edifice  of  German  unity,  and  give  them  a  share  in 
the  homage  they  pay  to  the  real  architects  of  that 
unity.  But  they  confess  that  these  idealists  must 
inevitably  have  succumbed  to  circumstances.  It 
required  men  of  exceedingly  strong  wills  to  bring  to 
avj3uccessful  issue  the  arduous  task  of  calling  the 
German  Empire  back  to  life. 


8 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   FOUNDATION   OF     GERMAN    UNITY 


The  Revolution  of  1848-49  marks  a  decisive  crisis 
in  the  evolution  of  Germany.  It  would  be  correct 
to  define  its  essential  character  by  saying  that  .Ger- 
many from  that  moment  passed  from  an  idealistic 
to  an  ever  more  definitely  realistic  and  practical 
conception  of  political  problems. 

This  transition  becomes  quite  clear  if  we  examine 
the  evolution  of  the  middle  classes.  And,  indeed, 
towards  the  middle  of  the  century  there  was  a  rapid 
development  in  its  ranks  of  the  instinct  of  capital- 
istic enterprise,  of  the  desire  for  wealth  and  for 
power  in  general.  We  have  already  discussed  the 
material  manifestations  which  bear  witness  to  this 
rise  of  capitalism  during  the  'fifties.  But  this  change 
in  the  general  direction  of  men's  minds  is  not  to  be 
discerned  only  in  the  economic  life  of  the  nation — it 
also  made  itself  felt  in  the  domain  of  political  events. 
The  most  vital  element  in  the  middle  classes  was,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  century,  the  intellectual  elite, 
who  aspired,  not  to  material  power,  but  to  scientific 
and  artistic  culture,  and  who  consequently  had  aims 
which  were  above  all  spiritual.     This  cultured  middle 

114 


c. 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  115 

class  now  began  to  be  ousted  and  gradually  degraded 
to  the  second  rank  by  the  new  aristocracy  of  enter- 
prise. The  representatives  of  capitalism — the  large 
manufacturers  and  merchants — began  to  play  an 
increasingly  important  part  in  public  life.  Their 
social  influence  began  to  predominate,  and  they  re- 
joiced in  an  ever  higher  consideration.  And  from 
that  moment  their  mental  outlook  also  began  to 
take  the  lead.  Now  this  aristocracy  of  enterprise 
was  very  clearly  differentiated  from  the  old  intel- 
lectual elite.  It  did  not  aim  at  culture,  or,  to  be 
more  exact,  it  did  not  regard  scientific  culture  as  an 
end  in  itself,  but  simply  as  an  instrument  of  power. 
It  aspired,  on  the  contrary,  to  wealth  and  authority. 
It  had  no  desire  for  spiritual,  disinterested,  or  general 
aims,  but  only  followed  positive,  concrete,  and 
tangible  interests.  It  no  longer  allowed  itself  to  be 
guided  in  its  actions  by  general  theories  or  abstract 
principles,  but  aimed  at  bounding  its  ambitions  by 
its  power,  and  making  an  exact  calculation  of  the 
forces  it  had  at  its  disposal  and  the  opposition  it 
was  likely  to  encounter,  so  as  to  adjust  the  means 
to  the  ends  it  had  in  view.  From  that  time  forward 
business  men  were  destined  to  rise  to  an  ever  higher 
position  among  the  middle  classes  of  Germany. 
Their  realistic  ambitions  and  concrete  desires  gradu- 
ally took  the  place  of  the  idealism  of  the  men  of 
thought,  who,  until  the  meeting  of  the  Frankfort 
Parliament,  had  guided  the  destinies  of  the  Liberal 
Party. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  the  middle  classes  that  we  Jj 
find   this   change    from   idealism   to   realism,    which 
was  the  natural  result  of   the  spread  of  the   spirit 
of  enterprise.     It  was  also  to  be  discovered  among 
the    nobility    and    the    leading    statesmen.       Here 


116  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 


it  is  true,  the  sense  of  reality  had  never  lost 
ground,  for  it  existed,  without  doubt,  among  the 
country  squires,  in  whose  ranks,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  the  first  representatives  of  the  spirit  of  capital- 
istic enterprise  in  Germany  were  to  be  found  ;  and 
it  also  existed  in  the  minds  of  the  statesmen  who 
paved  the  way  for  the  War  of  Independence,  and 
among  the  administrators  who,  when  peace  was 
established,  gradually  raised  the  edifice  of  Prussian 
greatness,  reorganised  the  finances  and  the  army, 
and  brought  the  work  of  the  Zollverein  to  a  satis- 
factory conclusion.  But  there  were  also  indications 
of  a  certain  liberal  idealism  among  men  like  Stein 
and  Humboldt.  And  in  others,  more  particularly  in 
the  case  of  the  advisers  of  Frederick  William  IV.,  this 
was  allied  to  a  more  or  less  strong  dose  of  romantic 
conviction.  And  the  Conservatives  of  this  type — the 
champions  of  the  divine  right  of  kings  and  dynasties, 
who  abhorred  the  Revolution  with  all  their  might, 
dreamt  of  restoring  the  Christian  State  and  the 
hierarchy  of  the  Middle  Ages,  were  filled  with  a  pious 
reverence  for  the  Holy  Alliance,  and  could  conceive 
of  no  German  Empire  of  which  the  House  of  Austria 
was  not  the  head — were  idealists  quite  as  doctrinaire 
as  the  enthusiasts  of  constitutional  Liberalism,  or  of 
the  republican  ideal,  could  be. 

It  is  possible  to  measure  the  progress  made  in  the 
direction  of  realism  if  we  contrast  with  these  roman- 
ticists the  statesman  whose  giant  figure  dominates 
the  whole  of  the  second  half  of  the  century,  and  whose 
entrance  into  public  life  dates  precisely  from  the  days 
of  the  Revolution  of  1848 — I  mean  Prince  Bismarck. 

Bismarck  was,  it  is  true,  the  highest  product  of 
feudalism.  Uniting  in  his  single  personality  the 
proud  and  pugnacious  arrogance  of  the  Brandenburg 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  117 

squire  with  the  commercial  spirit  and  business  ex- 
perience of  the  Pomeranian  noble,  imbued  with  the 
:  doctrines  of  the  historical  school  and  with  romanti- 
cism, fashioned  in  the  school  of  Hugo  and  of  Heeren, 
Savigny,  and  Hoffmann,  he  shared  from  the  bottom 
of  his  soul  in  the  great  prejudices  of  his  caste.  He 
was  a  fervent  upholder  of  monarchy  by  right  divine, 
a  mystic  whose  piety  was  deeply  sincere,  and  a 
hearty  convert,  after  a  youth  of  infidelity,  to  the 
religion  of  the  Gospels.  Like  a  good  romanticist,  he 
was  in  love  with  the  "  real  people  !  " — that  intangible 
multitude  of  souls  that  "  draws  from  the  sense  of 
tradition  the  power  which  leads  it  to  its  predestined 
goal  "  ;  while  he  also  believed  that  the  sovereign 
alone,  by  means  of  the  grace  vouchsafed  him  from 
on  high,  was  able  to  read  the  soul  of  the  nation,  to 
decipher  its  will,  and  guide  it  to  the  destiny  appointed 
by  Providence.  He  hated  and  despised  revolutionary 
forces — the  undisciplined  mob  which  rose  against 
legitimate  authority,  and  the  workman  who  in- 
dulged in  the  desire  to  think  and  to  reason.  He 
hurled  his  thunderbolts  against  the  spirit  of  impiety 
and  demoralisation,  which  had  sprung  up  throughout 
the  urban  civilisation  of  the  modern  world.  But, 
above  all,  he  could  not  find  any  sarcasm  sufficiently 
strong  for  the  middle-class  man  and  the  thinker  who 
made  clumsy  attempts  to  gain  power,  for  members 
of  Parliament  who  aspired  to  regulate  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people,  for  the  constitutionalists  who  granted 
to  incompetent  deliberative  assemblies — those  gro- 
tesque caricatures  of  the  national  will — the  sacred  and 
divine  right  of  legislation.  He  detested  from  the 
bottom  of  his  heart  those  arrogant  idealists  who 
placed  their  foolish  overweening  faith  in  abstract 
reason  and  its  artificial  creations. 


118  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

But  this  feudalist,  this  romanticist,  this  "  red  re- 
actionary," who  bewitched  and  at  the  same  time  dis- 
turbed Frederick  William  IV.,  possessed  to  a  supreme 
degree  the  essential  characteristics  of  the  modern 
mind  :  the  will  to  power,  intellectual  lucidity,  and 
intensity  of  nervous  energy. 

He  desired  with  an  incredibly  violent  passion 
power  for  himself,  for  his  party,  for  his  country,  and 
for  his  race.  And  this  without  any  shadow  of 
sentimentality,  but  by  virtue  of  the  most  elementary 
of  instincts,  which  was  the  mainspring  of  his  whole 
being — an  instinct  which  proclaimed  itself  openly  and 
was  not  ashamed.  He  possessed  to  a  most  extra- 
ordinary degree  the  love  of  power,  and  revelled  in 
exercising  and  spreading  his  own  influence  and  that 
of  his  country.  And  he  was  constantly  putting  into 
practice  this  "  combative  "  idea  of  existence,  with- 
out remorse  and  without  scruple,  without  pity  for 
the  feeble  or  generosity  for  the  vanquished,  an  inde- 
fatigable fighter,  ever  ready  to  guide  his  people  in 
their  hard  ascent  to  power.  He  has  been  accused 
of  cynicism,  he  has  been  reproached  with  putting 
into  practice  the  principle  that  "  might  is  right." 
It  would  be  more  just  to  say  that  in  the  case  of 
Bismarck — as  indeed  is  true,  more  generally  speak- 
ing, of  the  conscience  of  the  whole  of  Germany — it  is 
a  mistake  to  try  to  establish  between  might  and  right 
the  antagonism  which  the  judicial  mind  of  France  is 
quite  ready  to  admit.  In  his  eyes  there  was  no  right 
without  might  or  might  without  right.  He  saw  in 
the  insatiable  thirst  for  power  no  cynical  usurpation 
of  the  seat  of  justice  by  brute  force,  but  the  primordial 
duty  and  the  sacred  mission  of  strong  men  and 
healthy  nations. 

This   will   of  iron   was   backed   by   a   marvellous 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  119 

ability  for  summing  up  reality  with  absolute  exacti- 
tude, for  understanding  men  and  things,  and  un- 
ravelling the  mesh  of  events.  It  has  been  truly 
remarked  of  Bismarck  that  his  peculiar  genius  did 
not  consist  so  much  in  the  capacity  for  conceiving 
vast  designs  and  preparing  for  some  distant  future, 
as  in  the  marvellous  dexterity  with  which  he  was 
able  at  any  given  moment  to  extract  the  best  pos- 
sible results  from  the  present.  He  is  said  to  have 
had  no  greater  joy  than  in  visualising  every  day  and 
every  hour,  as  news  poured  in,  the  ever-changing 
image  of  the  state  of  the  world  at  the  time,  and  in 
constantly  discovering  by  an  infallible  instinct  the 
action  that  was  required  and  the  attitude  which  it 
was  necessary  to  assume  in  order  to  advance  his 
designs.  Thus  he  lived  always  in  the  present,  which 
by  a  genial  effort  of  the  imagination  he  embraced 
whole ;  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  task  of  the 
day  without  bothering  overmuch  about  distant  con- 
tingencies. And  to  this  rare  gift  of  being  able  to 
reflect  with  clearness  and  fidelity  the  multitudinous 
and  diverse  changes  of  everyday  actual  reality,  he 
added  the  subtle  power  of  divining  the  current  of  public 
opinion,  the  meaning  of  imponderabilia,  in  such  a 
way  that  almost  up  to  the  last  he  was  able  to  guess 
the  essential  tendencies  of  contemporary  evolution 
and  adapt  his  policy  to  the  profoundest  needs  of  his 
time. 

A  realist  by  the  possession  of  a  will  directed  to- 
wards the  conquest  of  material  power,  wealth,  and 
supremacy,  as  also  by  the  clear  lucidity  of  his  intel- 
ligence and  the  infinite  resources  of  his  co-ordinating 
faculties,  Bismarck,  on  account  of  the  complexity 
of  his  psychic  organism  and  the  exceptional  intensity 
of  his  nervous  energy,  was  also  the  legitimate  son 


120  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

of  the  new  age  which  was  being  inaugurated.  One 
has  only  an  incomplete  idea  of  Bismarck  if  one 
imagines  that  he  was  a  sort  of  robust  and  healthy 
giant,  a  soldier  of  genius,  a  voracious  eater  and 
drinker,  mad  on  hunting  and  violent  riding,  open 
air  and  country  life,  and  finding  in  the  primeval 
vigour  of  his  constitution  the  strength  to  bear  the 
crushing  burden  of  public  life.  One  must  also  take 
into  account  that  an  existence  so  active  and  full  as 
his  presupposed  the  possession  of  a  nervous  system 
which  was  both  marvellously  sensitive  and  marvel- 
lously hard.  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Bismarck 
had  a  highly  nervous  temperament,  which  sometimes 
vibrated  to  distraction,  and  was  subject  to  strange 
disorders,  which  seemed  to  be  the  physical  mani- 
festation of  psychic  upheavals  and  disturbances. 
But  in  spite  of  everything  he  was  strong  enough  to 
keep  his  balance  and  to  endure  without  irreparable 
damage  the  incredible  expenditure  of  nervous  energy 
in  which  he  indulged.  But  the  sort  of  internal 
vibration  which  constantly  animated  him  betrayed 
the  accelerated  speed  and  the  terrible  tension  under 
which  his  sensitive,  and  at  the  same  time  powerful, 
organism  worked. 

With  the  rise  of  the  realistic  spirit  in  politics,  a 
new  phase  in  the  evolution  of  Germany  began. 

II 

In  the  first  act  of  the  political  drama,  the  great 
struggle  for  German  unity,  with  all  its  various 
vicissitudes,  takes  place.  And  since  the  beginning  of 
the  century  this  struggle  had  changed  very  much  in 
character, 

The  aspirations  for  unity  arose,  at  first,  out  of  the 


y 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY 


121 


feeling  of  solidarity  between  the  Teutonic  nations 
who  spoke  the  same  language  and  had  the  same 
culture,  as  distinguished  from  the  foreigner,  and 
tended  to  create  between  these  nations  a  moral  rather 
than  a  material  tie.  Those  who  believed  in  unity 
thought  that  the  federation  of  the  German  states 
would  be  the  result  of  the  reasoning  will  of  the  whole 
nation,  which  would  gradually  triumph  over  the  par- 
ticularist  egoism  of  the  princes.  Without  sacrificing 
the  autonomy  of  the  various  divisions  of  Germany, 
it  would  secure  the  realisation  of  a  union  which  was 
not  only  demanded  by  the  national  conscience,  but 
was  also  as  necessary  for  the  external  safety  as  for  the 
economic  development  of  the  country.  We  have 
already  seen  how  this  desire  for  unity  almost  attained 
its  object  on  the  day  on  which  the  Parliament  of 
Frankfort  offered  the  imperial  crown,  in  the  name 
of  the  German  people,  to  the  King  of  Prussia,  and 
how  the  refusal  of  Frederick  William  IV.  caused  the 
miscarriage  of  this  brilliant  hope. 

From  that  time  forward  the  problem  of  unity 
gradually  assumed  a  different  aspect.  Instead  of 
being  an  idealistic  impulse  towards  national  solidarity, 
it  became  above  all  a  question  of  dynamics. 

The  system  of  German  states  contained  in  Prussia 
and  Austria  two  rival  centres  of  attraction,  which 
mutually  neutralised  and  cancelled  each  other.  This 
rivalry,  whether  it  was  open  or  covert,  paralysed  the 
powers  of  the  Teutonic  body  politic  and  encouraged 
the  centrifugal  and  particularist  tendencies  of  the 
minor  states.  For  unity  to  be  established  it  was 
necessary  for  this  dualism  to  be  stopped  and  for 
Prussia,  the  most  vigorous  state  of  Germany,  gradually 
to  increase  her  power,  affirm  her  superiority,  drive 
her  irreconcilable  rival,  Austria,  out  of  the  Empire, 


i)   Q>-t<n^ 


■ 


r 


s^SJ 


122     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

and  group  all  the  other  German  states  around  her, 
either  by  force  or  by  the  prestige  of  victory.  The 
history  of  this  slow  conquest  by  Prussia  is  sufficiently 
well  known  for  me  to  confine  myself  to  giving  a  rough 
sketch  of  its  most  important  phases. 

The  first  step  towards  the  practical  realisation  of 
unity  was  the' establishment  of  the  Zollverein.  Prus- 
sian statesmen  deserve  credit  for  having  understood 
the  vital  necessity  for  modern  industry  to  have  a 
wide  market  at  its  disposal,  and  this  at  a  time  when 
Austria  had  not  yet  realised  that  fact.  Moreover, 
they  were  clear-sighted  enough  to  see  the  political 
advantage  Prussia  would  derive  from  drawing  closer 
the  economic  ties  with  the  other  German  states,  even 
at  the  price  of  certain  material  sacrifices.  And  in  the 
end  they  succeeded  in  this  difficult  enterprise,  in  spite 
of  the  obstacles  which  stood  in  their  path.  They  baffled 
the  hostility  of  Austria,  who  scented  in  this  move- 
ment towards  unity  a  revolutionary  manifestation, 
and  a  dangerous  manoeuvre  on  the  part  of  Prussia 
for  extending  her  sphere  of  influence.  They  suc- 
ceeded in  calming  the  particularist  suspicions  of  the 
minor  states,  who  saw  a  slight  to  their  sovereignty 
in  the  interference  of  Prussia  in  their  administration 
and  finance.  They  resisted  the  blundering  impatience 
of  certain  over-hasty  partisans  of  unity,  like  List, 
who  would  have  liked  to  see  the  economic  unification 
of  Germany  proclaimed  at  one  stroke  by  a  decree  of 
the  diet,  instead  of  proceeding  gradually  by  succes- 
sive stages.  They  triumphed  over  all  these  difficul- 
ties by  the  firmness  of  a  persevering  and  loyal  policy, 
pursued  methodically,  without  haste,  brutality,  or 
weakness. 

Their    action    was,    moreover,    seconded    by    the 
natural  play  of  economic  laws.     Prussia,  which  was 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  123 

the  only  large  state  in  Germany,  was  the  one  power 
in  a  position  to  secure  the  prosperity  of  industry  on 
ajarge   scale,   which  must  of  necessity  have  been 
confined  and  hampered  in   the  minor  states.     Con- 
sequently,  a    customs    union  with    Prussia  was    so 
clearly  to  the  advantage  of  the  latter,  that  in  the 
long  run  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  resign  them- 
selves to  it.      The  customs  duties,  moreover,    con- 
stituted a  financial  resource  of  the  first  importance  ; 
so  much  so  that  for  the  states  whose  finances  were  in 
low  water,  the  prospect  of  an  immediate  and  certain 
increase  of  revenue  was  one  of  the  most  enticing 
baits.     Lastly,  tariff  walls  and  rights  of  transit  might 
prove   exceedingly   efficacious   weapons   against   ob- 
stinate hostility,  and  Prussia  did  not  hesitate  to  use 
them  on  occasion  to  bring  some  recalcitrant  neigh- 
bour to  repentance.     During  the  'thirties  a  customs 
union  including  the  greater  part  of  Germany — only 
Hanover  and  a  few  petty  North  German  states  re- 
mained outside  the  Zollverein — was  definitely  estab- 
lished under  the  hegemony  of  Prussia.     The  economic 
results  of  this  arrangement  were  immediately  notice- 
able everywhere.     And  soon  the  Zollverein,  founded 
on  the  solid  basis  of  material  interests,  became  a 
definite  institution,   capable  of  defying  all  assaults 
and  of  victoriously   weathering  the   storms  of   the 
revolutionary  period  of  1848-1849. 

As  soon  as  she  had  been  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  German  Customs  Union,  Prussia  immediately  en- 
deavoured, in  the  spring  of  1849,  after  the  refusal  of 
King  Frederick  William  IV.  to  accept  the  Imperial 
Crown  offered  him  by  the  Parliament  of  Frankfort, 
to  realise  the  political  unity  of  Germany  by  means 
of  diplomacy. 

On  the  advice  of  his  friend  General  von  Radowitz, 


124    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

the  King  of  Prussia  tried  to  create  within  the  Con- 
federation, and  with  the  consent  of  Austria,  a  smaller 
"  union  "  which  was  to  come  into  being  through  the 
voluntary  adherence  of  the  petty  states.  This  was 
a  strangely  complicated  scheme,  in  which  there  was  a 
curious  admixture  of  the  enthusiasm  for  unity  of 
1848,  Prussian  aspirations  to  the  hegemony  of  Ger- 
many, and  fidelity  to  the  traditional  policy  of  friend- 
ship with  Austria.  It  was  foredoomed  to  failure 
— in  the  first  place  because  the  desire  for  unity, 
weakened  by  the  check  with  which  the  Frankfort 
Parliament  had  met,  had  not  sufficient  strength  to 
demand  the  sacrifices  required  from  the  particularist 
egoism  of  the  minor  states  ;  secondly  and  chiefly 
because  Austria,  in  proportion  as  she  regained  the 
power  which  had  been  shattered  by  the  revolutionary 
crisis,  showed  herself  more  clearly  hostile  to  a  pro- 
gramme which  would  destroy  her  influence  in  Ger- 
many. The  weakness  and  indecision  of  Frederick 
William  IV.  in  this  difficult  position  almost  brought 
about  a  catastrophe.  After  having  in  the  first  place 
grouped  around  him  a  certain  number  of  petty  states, 
he  did  not  know  how  to  anticipate  defection  on  the 
part  of  his  allies  by  the  use  of  force,  he  could  not  make 
up  his  mind  to  beat  a  retreat  in  time,  nor  had  he  the 
courage  to  accept  an  open  conflict  with  Austria  under 
the  disadvantageous  circumstances  in  which  he  was 
placed.  This  diplomatic  campaign,  foolishly  under- 
taken, and  then  conducted  without  spirit  and  energy, 
finally  ended  in  the  disastrous  reverse  of  Olmiitz. 
Prussia,  isolated  and  ill-prepared  for  war,  found  herself 
constrained  to  give  way  all  along  the  line  and  to  sub- 
mit to  the  humiliating  terms  which  victorious  Austria 
imposed  upon  her. 
During  the  years  that  followed  Prussia  retired  into 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  125 

herself,  and  gathered  together  her  forces  for  the  great 
struggle  which  had  become  inevitable,  and  which 
was  to  decide  to  whom  the  hegemony  of  Germany 
was  to  belong. 

First,  the  Prussian  Government  re-established  its 
authority  at  home  by  means  of  the  reaction,  which 
immediately  after  the  crisis  of  1848  began  to  set  in 
throughout  Germany  and  the  whole  of  Europe.  And 
it  regained  its  position  all  the  more  surely  inasmuch 
as  it  used  its  victory  with  comparative  moderation. 
In  Austria,  Schwarzenberg  and  his  successors  re- 
turned to  the  most  superannuated  forms  of  absolutism. 
They  cancelled  all  constitutional  guarantees  and 
established  a  centralised  bureaucratic  and  clerical 
system  which  ruffled  the  most  elementary  instincts  of 
the  modern  conscience.  And  they  thus  condemned 
themselves  to  a  reign  of  systematic  suppression, 
levelling  despotism  and  brutal  violence.  In  the  minor 
German  states  the  princes,  who  had  recovered  from 
the  revolutionary  scare,  wreaked  their  vengeance  on 
their  foes  at  home  by  a  series  of  petty  persecutions, 
without  seeing  that  they  were  thereby  destroying  in 
the  hearts  of  their  subjects  the  last  vestiges  of  that 
devotion  to  the  dynasties  which  had  hitherto  been 
their  chief  instrument  of  power.  It  is  true  that  in 
Prussia  also  the  forces  of  reaction  triumphed.  The 
officials  of  all  kinds  were  subjected  to  a  stricter  disci- 
pline, and  found  themselves  reduced  to  the  alternative 
either  of  resigning  or  of  becoming  the  docile  weapons 
of  the  central  power.  The  right  of  forming  societies 
was  practically  restricted  to  those  who  were  friendly 
to  the  Government.  The  press  was  sedulously  gagged 
and  reduced  to  impotence.  The  all-powerful  police 
force  made  its  heavy  fist  felt  everywhere,  and  all  too 
complacent  tribunals  sanctioned,  by  audacious  inter- 


126  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

pretations  of  the  law,  the  most  arbitrary  actions  on 
the  part  of  the  central  power.  But  the  feudalistic 
and  revivalist  Right,  nevertheless,  did  not  succeed  in 
destroying  the  parliamentary  institutions  which  had 
been  accepted  by  the  Government,  nor  in  restoring  the 
edifice  of  social  privilege,  nor  in  founding  that  Chris- 
tian state  of  which  romanticists  dreamt. 

On  the  day  following  that  on  which  the  King  of 
Prussia,  thanks  to  the  support  of  the  army,  dissolved 
the  National  Assembly  elected  after  the  March  Re- 
volution, and  thus  re-established  by  force  of  arms 
the  sovereign  authority  which  he  had  at  one  moment 
seemed  on  the  point  of  abdicating,  he  promulgated  a 
written  constitution  almost  identical  with  the  one  he 
had  presented  only  a  short  time  previously  to  the 
National  Assembly,  and  containing  the  fundamental 
clauses  of  the  Belgian  Constitution.  This  consti- 
tution satisfied,  at  least  in  theory,  the  chief  demands 
of  the  Liberal  Party  ;  it  officially  proclaimed  the 
liberty  of  the  subject  and  civil  equality,  and  instituted 
a  representative  system  in  addition  to  the  royal 
authority.  In  short,  to  the  great  disgust  of  the 
extreme  feudalists,  it  put  an  end,  once  for  all,  to  the 
reign  of  autocracy,  and  organised  the  co-operation 
of  the  Crown  and  the  people  on  a  definite  system. 

It  is  true  that  the  concessions  made  by  the  King 
were  more  apparent  than  real.  The  monarch  pre- 
served his  sovereignty  and  his  entire  independence 
of  the  Chambers.  The  Lower  House,  held  in  check 
by  the  House  of  Lords,  had  no  real  influence  over  the 
Government.  The  method  of  election  to  the  Lower 
House  was  such  as  to  secure  the  preponderating  voice 
to  the  most  highly  taxed  electors.  Prussia,  therefore, 
did  not  suddenly  become  a  parliamentary  state — she 
remained  an  absolute  monarchy,  on  to  which  had  been 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  127 

more  or  less  badly  grafted  the  chief  characteristics 
of  a  constitutional  system.  But  at  least  the  Crown 
had  had  the  wisdom  not  to  profit  by  its  victory  in 
order  completely  to  overwhelm  its  foes.  It  had  had 
the  good  sense  to  assimilate  a  large  part  of  the  Liberal 
programme  and  institute  of  its  own  free  will  a  system 
which  was  on  the  whole  acceptable  to  the  more  mode- 
rate among  the  middle  classes  of  Germany.  By  these 
clever  concessions,  which  did  not  weaken  its  influence 
or  compromise  its  authority,  it  succeeded  in  con- 
ciliating the  sympathies  of  an  important  section  of 
public  opinion,  and  thus  consolidated  its  power  on 
a  broader  and  more  secure  foundation. 

With  the  accession  of  William  to  power,  first  as 
Prince  Regent  and  then  as  King,  and,  above  all,  with 
the  appointment  of  Bismarck  to  the  post  of  Prime  r_ 
Minister,  the  attitude  of  the  Prussian  Throne  to- 
wards the  various  political  parties  became  still  more 
clearly  defined. 

It  proclaimed  itself  more  loftily  than  ever  a  mon- 
archy by  right  divine.  The  king  possessed,  by  virtue 
of  a  special  grace,  the  instinct  for  supreme  decisions 
which  would  realise  the  will  of  God  upon  earth.  In 
his  hands  were  placed  the  right  and  the  duty  of  dis- 
posing, in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  his  in- 
spiration, of  all  the  vital  forces  which  together 
constituted  the  strength  of  the  nation.  In  Prussia, 
the  king,  according  to  Bismarck,  was  not  a  mere 
ornamental  accessory  of  the  constitutional  edifice ; 
he  did  not  only  reign — he  governed.  After  having 
been  illuminated  by  the  advice  of  his  councillors,  he 
gave  his  orders  in  the  plenitude  of  his  sovereignty. 
He  was  free  to  choose  the  ministers  in  whom  he 
reposed  confidence,  without  Parliament  having  any 
right  to  impose  upon  him  the  councillors  whom  they 


128  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

wanted.  Upon  him,  in  the  last  resort,  rested  the 
right  of  deciding  the  great  questions  of  armaments, 
diplomacy,  peace  and  war,  and  the  ratification  of 
treaties  ;  the  House  had  no  business  to  interfere  in 
these  matters  over  which  it  possessed  no  jurisdiction. 
And  lastly  he  had  the  right  of  supplying  all  "  de- 
ficiencies "  in  the  constitution  and  of  ensuring,  if 
the  need  arose,  the  normal  working  of  the  State  on 
his  own  responsibility  alone,  and  of  acting  on  his  own 
initiative  without  the  consent  of  Parliament,  in  any 
case  in  which  the  usually  necessary  agreement 
between  the  will  of  the  king  and  the  House  had 
failed  to  be  secured. 

But  the  royal  will  did  not  draw  its  inspiration 
only  from  the  feudalists  of  the  Right.  It  acted  in 
accordance  with  the  sum-total  of  all  the  national 
forces.  It  was  the  necessary  arbitrator  between  the 
parties  who  struggled  for  power,  but  was  the  prisoner 
of  none  of  them.  And  Bismarck  excelled  in  dis- 
covering this  aggregate  of  the  national  will. 

About  1860  he  gauged  with  marvellous  accuracy 
the  power  which  the  love  of  monarchy  had  among 
the  mass  of  the  people  in  Prussia.  He  realised  that 
the  immense  majority  of  the  nation,  sick  of  political 
agitation  and  little  desirous  of  renewing  the  attempt 
which  had  failed  in  1848,  would  gladly  range  itself 
behind  a  master  who  was  capable  of  satisfying  the 
fundamental  aspirations  of  the  new  realistic  and 
positivist  generation  and  its  will  to  economic  and 
political  power.  And  thus  with  admirable  certainty 
of  instinct  he  determined  the  bold  outlines  of  his 
policy.  An  imperialist  with  regard  to  foreign  affairs, 
he  led  Prussia  with  indefatigable  zeal  and  energy  to 
the  conquest  of  Germany,  and  thus  succeeded  in 
contenting  both  the  champions  of  Prussian  expan- 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  129 

sion  and  the  believers  in  German  unity,  as  the  victory 
of  Prussia  seemed  definitely  to  promise  the  practical 
realisation  of  the  dream  of  unification.  An  upholder 
of  absolutism  at  home,  he  satisfied  the  loyalty  of 
the  country  to  the  Crown  by  maintaining  the  royal 
authority  intact.  But  he  also  reconciled  the  capi- 
talist middle  class  by  giving  his  support  to  the  new 
movement  towards  a  system  of  enterprise,  and  he 
remained  sufficiently  free  from  all  class  prejudice 
and  from  any  taint  of  Conservative  doctrinairism  to 
be  able,  when  the  decisive  crisis  arrived,  to  appeal 
in  all  sincerity  to  the  support  of  democratic  public 
opinion.  In  1866  he  brought  against  the  reactionary 
federalism  of  Austria  the  identical  Liberal  programme 
of  1848,  including  the  convocation  of  a  German 
parliament  elected  by  the  universal  suffrage  of  the 
whole  nation,  from  which  Austria  was  to  be  excluded. 
And  whilst  the  policy  of  Bismarck  was  grouping 
all  the  forces  of  the  nation  around  the  Prussian 
Throne,  it  was  working  at  the  same  time  to  raise  the 
might  of  Prussia  to  its  highest  power  in  every  do- 
main. The  Zollverein,  extended  to  Hanover  and  her 
Steuerverein,  was  renewed  in  spite  of  the  intrigues  of 
Austrian  diplomacy,  which  attempted,  after  1850,  to 
introduce  Austria  into  the  Customs  Union,  and 
thereby  to  snatch  away  from  Prussia  the  direction 
of  the  economic  development  of  Germany.  The  army, 
whose  inefficiency  had  been  revealed  by  the  crisis 
of  1850,  was  reorganised  by  the  efforts  of  the  Prince 
Regent  and  Roon.  In  spite  of  the  violent  oppo- 
sition of  Parliament,  which  was  afraid  of  seeing  the 
national  army,  as  it  had  been  organised  by  the 
patriots  of  the  War  of  Independence,  transformed 
into  a  body  of  Praetorian  Guards,  and  which  stiffened 
its  back  for  foolish  and  barren  resistance,  the  military 
9 


yuc 


130  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

forces  of  Prussia,  largely  increased  and  modernised, 
became  an  excellently  drilled  and  disciplined  weapon 
of  war,  kept  well  in  hand  by  the  King,  and  ready  to 
act  at  the  first  signal  against  any  adversary  that 
might  be  pointed  out.  Moreover,  the  diplomacy  of 
Bismarck  was  constantly  engaged  in  placing  every 
possible  contingency  in  his  favour  for  the  decisive 
struggle  with  Austria,  which  he  foresaw  long  before 
it  actually  took  place.  He  secured  for  Prussia  the 
sympathies  of  the  Muscovite  Empire  by  remaining 
neutral  during  the  Crimean  War,  and  by  consenting 
in  1863,  to  help  the  Tsar  in  his  bloody  suppression 
of  the  Polish  insurrection.  He  broke  with  the 
traditions  of  the  Holy  Alliance  and  with  Legitimist 
prejudices  by  trying  to  put  himself  on  good  terms 
with  Napoleon  III.  through  negotiating  an  alliance 
with  revolutionary  Italy.  In  short,  he  managed  with 
marvellous  dexterity  to  plot  the  necessary  war  with 
Austria,  to  ensure  its  birth  at  a  propitious  time,  and 
at  the  psychological  moment  to  force  the  hands  both 
of  Austrian  statesmen,  who  could  not  be  ignorant 
of  the  perils  of  the  venture,  and  of  King  William, 
who  was  reluctant  to  engage  in  a  fratricidal 
struggle. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  on  the  field  of  Koniggratz 
that  Prussia  for  the  first  time  proved  in  the  most 
brilliant  manner  the  superiority  of  her  power.  The 
decisive  step  towards  unity  was  taken  there.  The 
old  dualism  was  abolished  by  the  defeat  of  Austria, 
who  was  wiped  out  of  Germany,  and  thenceforward 
ceased  to  hold  the  influence  of  Prussia  in  check. 
Prussia,  reinforced  by  the  accession  of  Hanover, 
Nassau,  Hesse-Cassel,  Frankfort,  and  the  Duchies  of 
the  Elbe,  definitely  grouped  the  minor  states  north  of 
the  Main  around  her,  under  the  title  of  the  Northern 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  131 

Confederation.  A  constitution,  which  ingeniously  re- 
conciled the  claims  of  unity  and  particularism,  which 
preserved  the  independence  of  the  princes  whilst  it 
secured  the  undeniable  supremacy  of  the  King  of 
Prussia  and  the  close  cohesion  of  the  whole  country 
in  the  face  of  the  foreigner,  bound  the  states  together 
by  a  solid  tie  without  suppressing  their  individuality 
or  enslaving  them,  at  all  events  openly,  to  Prussia. 
And  the  latter,  owing  to  her  size,  and  thanks  to  the 
glory  of  victory,  found  herself  in  the  first  place  in 
the  position  to  dominate  the  Confederation  of  the 
North.  Moreover,  she  exercised  an  irresistible  power 
of  attraction  over  the  states  situated  south  of  the 
Main,  who  were  destined  to  form  the  Confederation 
of  the  South,  and  who  already  found  themselves 
bound  to  the  Confederation  of  the  North  by  the 
material  tie  of  the  Zollverein.  The  Customs  Union 
between  these  two  groups  in  Germany  prepared  the 
way  for  their  political  unity.  It  only  required  the 
princes  of  the  Southern  Confederation  to  be  repre- 
sented in  the  Bundesrat  and  for  the  Customs  Parlia- 
ment, which  every  year  united  the  delegates  of  the 
South  with  those  of  the  North  for  the  discussion  of 
indirect  taxation,  to  extend  its  functions  to  the 
domain  of  politics  and  legislation,  for  the  German 
Empire  to  be  realised.  As  early  as  1867  Bismarck 
asserted  in  the  Reichstag  :  "  From  the  day  that  the 
Confederation  of  the  South  becomes  a  reality  and 
only  two  national  parliaments  meet  in  Germany,  no 
human  power  will  be  able  to  prevent  their  joining 
any  more  than  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea  could 
have  remained  divided  after  the  crossing  of  the 
hosts  of  Israel." 

•  •  ■  •  • 

The  war  of  1870,  by  uniting  the  whole  of  Germany 


132  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

in  a  paroxysm  of  hatred  against  the  hereditary  foe, 
put  the  finishing  touches  to  the  work  of  unification, 
which  had  remained  incomplete  in  1866,  and  gave 
birth  to  the  German  Empire. 

The  causes  of  this  war  are  still  very  obscure.  It  is 
impossible,  even  to-day,  to  tell  with  absolute  cer- 
tainty the  exact  intentions  of  the  leading  statesmen 
either  on  the  French  or  the  German  side. 

At  all  events  it  is  in  the  first  place  certain  that 
France,  generally  speaking,  did  not  want  war.  The 
myth,  upheld  by  Bismarck  and  afterwards  repeated 
ad  nauseam  by  official  historians,  of  a  bellicose  and 
vindictive  France  who  had  long  been  brooding  an 
invasion,  and  who,  in  the  belief  that  her  forces 
were  superior,  would  suddenly  have  attacked  peace- 
loving  and  unsuspecting  Germany  under  the  most 
frivolous  of  pretexts,  cannot  hold  water. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  soul  of  France  was  torn  in 
two  by  conflicting  sentiments.  At  heart  no  one 
wanted  war.  The  Emperor,  who  was  a  phlegmatic 
fatalist,  had  faith  in  the  wisdom  of  the  nations,  and 
believed  in  the  gradual  pacification  of  all  men's  minds. 
His  advisers — the  most  clear-sighted  at  least — could 
not  shut  their  eyes  to  the  possibility  of  a  struggle 
with  the  victors  of  Sadowa.  The  middle  classes,  un- 
accustomed to  warlike  virtues  and  the  spirit  of 
sacrifice,  dominated  by  the  love  of  comfort  and 
luxury,  in  their  positivist  materialism  hated  the 
barbarism  of  bloody  conflicts  between  one  nation  and 
another,  and  gladly  plumed  themselves  on  possessing 
a  generous  though  vague  humanitarian  idealism. 
And  lastly  the  great  majority  of  the  people  was  as 
peaceably  inclined  as  the  middle  classes,  and  nourished 
no  violent  animosity  against  neighbours  of  whom 
it    knew    next    to    nothing.       But,    on    the    other 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  133 

hand,  France  could  not  disguise  the  fact  that  after 
Sadowa  all  national  security  was  at  an  end,  and  that 
the  birth  of  a  bold  and  ambitious  military  power 
upon  her  eastern  frontier  was  a  serious  menace  to 
her  tranquillity  and  to  her  position  in  Europe.  All 
this  produced  a  complex  state  of  mind,  made  up  of 
surprise,  irritation,  and  anxiety.  The  friends  of  the 
Imperial  Government  passionately  desired  some 
foreign  victory,  which  would  to  a  certain  extent 
counterbalance  in  the  eyes  of  public  opinion  the 
enormous  advantages  gained  by  Prussia.  The  repre- 
sentatives of  the  middle  classes — men  like  Thiers — 
pointed  out,  not  without  some  anxiety,  the  danger 
to  France  of  the  growth  of  Prussia,  and  bitterly 
denounced  the  mistake  made  by  French  diplomacy 
in  allowing  German  unity  to  come  into  existence 
without  securing  any  compensation  for  its  own 
country.  They  were  angry  with  Prussia  and  with 
Bismarck  for  having  "  deceived  "  France,  and  they 
contemplated  the  possibility  of  war  without  believing 
in  it.  They  even  talked  of  military  preparations. 
But  the  middle  classes,  whilst  they  refused  to  accept 
the  situation  and  consent  to  the  renunciations  which 
the  position  of  affairs  inevitably  entailed  upon  French- 
men, were  also  not  willing  to  resign  themselves  to  the 
sacrifices  which  would  have  been  required  if  France 
had  really  meant  to  fight.  And  the  Government, 
who  demanded  a  thorough  reorganisation  of  the 
army,  did  not,  on  the  other  hand,  possess  sufficient 
energy  to  impose  it  forcibly  upon  a  public  opinion 
that  was  against  it.  And  thus  a  dangerous  spirit  of 
vacillation  sprang  up  in  France,  in  which  the  desire 
for  peace  was  the  chief  factor,  but  in  which  there 
was  also  a  certain  element  of  dull  irritation,  per- 
meated by  vague  desires  for  war,  which  evaporated 


134    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

in  words  and  schemes  without  ever  resulting  in  a 
practical  act  or  a  virile  resolution. 

The  public  opinion  of  Germany  was  infinitely 
simpler  and  more  decided.  Hatred  for  the  frivolous, 
vain,  and  blustering  Welsche,1  resentment  against 
the  perfidious  nation,  which  in  1815  had  only  escaped 
the  extermination  it  deserved,  thanks  to  the  ill-timed 
and  cowardly  weakness  of  England  and  Russia,  the 
desire  to  win  back  Alsace,  which  had  been  fraudu- 
lently snatched  away  from  the  German  Empire  by 
Louis  XIV.,  were  feelings  very  generally  prevalent 
in  Germany,  especially  in  Prussia,  and  revived 
periodically,  with  an  elemental  force,  during  the 
nineteenth  century,  every  time  that  Germany  im- 
agined herself  menaced  by  the  ambitions  of  France. 
These  feelings  had  much  greater  consistency  and 
real  weight  than  the  superficial  Chauvinism,  which 
before  1870  made  itself  conspicuous  in  France 
by  its  vain  boasting  and  harmless  chatter.  Ger- 
many, moreover,  had  at  her  head  a  man  who  knew 
what  he  wanted,  and  realised  all  the  advantage  he 
could  derive  from  this  hatred  of  the  hereditary  foe 
in  order  to  put  the  coping-stone  to  the  edifice  of 
German  unity. 

Did  Bismarck  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  share  the 
national  prejudice  against  the  hereditary  enemy  ?  It 
may  well  be  doubted  ;  and  French  historians  have 
pointed  out  that  he  was  at  all  events  free  from  any 
taint  of  romantic  Chauvinism,  and  perhaps  better 
able  than  the  majority  of  his  fellow-countrymen  to 
render  justice  to  the  sterling  qualities  of  their  race. 
It  is  suggested  that  he  even  believed  in  the  inevitable 
necessity    of    a    Franco-German    war,    and    that    he 

1  A  term  applied  generally  to  the  foreigner  by  the  ancient 
Teutons,  just  as  the  Anglo-Saxons  used  the  word  Welsh, — Tb. 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  135 

worked  systematically  to  hasten  its  outbreak.  The 
question  as  to  the  exact  date  on  which  the  necessity 
for  war  became  clear  in  his  mind  has  often  been 
discussed.  Did  this  happen  in  1866,  when  the  in- 
discreet attempt  of  France  to  act  as  mediator,  and 
the  blustering  of  the  imperial  press,  unloosed  a 
unanimous  paroxysm  of  rage  throughout  the  whole 
of  Germany  ?  Was  the  Luxemburg  affair  a  trap 
laid  for  the  French  Government  to  push  France  into 
war  ?  Or  did  Bismarck  only  make  his  decision  in 
1869,  when  he  realised  that  Bavaria  would  never  join 
the  German  Confederation  peacefully  of  her  own  free 
will,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  reduce  her  to 
the  dilemma  of  either  marching  with  France  against 
Germany  or  with  Germany  against  France  ?  No  one 
can  tell  for  certain.  But  the  fact  which  is  beyond 
dispute  is  that  sooner  or  later  the  hour  arrived  when 
Bismarck  was  convinced  that  war  was  inevitable,  as 
France  would  never  resign  herself  to  the  formation 
of  a  great  military  power  on  her  frontier,  and  that 
consequently  she  must  not  be  allowed  to  choose  her 
own  time,  but  must  be  forestalled.  Nothing,  more- 
over, would  be  a  better  seal  for  German  unity  than 
blood  spilt  upon  the  common  field  of  battle.  Ger- 
man unity  under  the  hegemony  of  Prussia  had  been 
imposed  upon  Austria  and  Germany  by  the  war  of 
1866  ;  it  only  remained  to  impose  it  upon  the  rest 
of  the  world  by  a  national  war  against  France,  which 
would  convince  Europe  of  the  power  of  united 
Germany. 

From  the  day  that  Bismarck  realised  this  neces- 
sity he  decided  upon  his  plan  of  action.  It  was 
necessary  to  hasten  the  outbreak  of  war.  But  it 
was  also  essential  to  make  France  the  aggressor. 
We  all  know  the   consummate  art  with  which  he 


136     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

made  capital  out  of  the  state  of  exasperation  and 
irritation  existing  in  French  public  opinion  to  pre- 
cipitate France  into  a  war  which,  in  the  bottom  of 
her  heart,  she  did  not  want,  and  which  a  little  level- 
headedness might  have  been  enough  to  ward  off.  We 
also  know  how  he  forced  the  Imperial  Government 
into  committing  the  irrevocable  mistake  of  appear- 
ing to  be  the  disturber  of  the  public  peace,  and  thus 
put  every  semblance  of  right  on  his  side,  while  he 
persuaded  his  countrymen  and  the  rest  of  Europe 
that  Germany  was  the  victim  of  an  unjustifiable  act 
of  aggression.  The  war  might  perhaps  have  been 
avoided  had  the  French  Government  known  how  to 
obtain  a  clear  conviction  that  a  pacific  spirit  was 
prevalent  in  the  country,  and  had  France  remained 
calm  in  the  presence  of  the  cunning  methods  where- 
by her  adversary  tried  to  rouse  her  into  action. 
From  this  point  of  view,  certainly,  the  onus  of 
the  war  rests  upon  the  French  nation.  But  the 
will  that  desired  it  most  passionately,  that  plotted 
and  planned  it  with  a  fully  conscious  cleverness, 
and  which  in  the  end  made  it  inevitable  by  his 
"  audacious  emendations "  of  the  Ems  despatch, 
was  without  a  shadow  of  doubt  Bismarck.  And  this 
desire  was  not  due  to  the  arbitrary  resolution  of 
personal  ambition.  Bismarck  had  the  firm  convic- 
tion that  in  letting  loose  the  dogs  of  war  he  was 
leading  his  country  to  the  fulfilment  of  her  divine 
mission  ;  he  was  the  incarnation  of  the  will  to  power 
of  imperial  Germany,  which  impelled  her  to  regain 
her  position  in  Europe  and  brought  her,  after  cen- 
turies of  eclipse  and  humiliation,  to  the  threshold 
of  a  glorious  and  prosperous  future. 

When  the  verdict  of  war  had  been  pronounced, 
when  for  the  second  time  the  boldness  of  the  great 


FOUNDATION    OF    UNITY  137 

minister  had  been  crowned  with  success,  and  when 
on  January  18,  1871,  in  the  Galerie  des  Glaces  at 
Versailles,  King  William  had  resumed  "  the  throne 
of  the  German  Empire,  which  had  remained  vacant 
for  over  sixty  years,"  national  unity  was  once  for 
all  secured.  It  is  true  that  the  treaties  by  which 
the  southern  states,  like  Bavaria,  Wurtemberg,  and 
Baden,  were  in  their  turn  bound  to  the  Confederation 
of  the  North  proved  at  first  a  disappointment  to  the 
Liberal  believers  in  unity.  They  would  have  liked  a 
radical  reconstruction  of  Germany,  and  dreamt  of  a 
great  kingdom  with  a  strong  central  government. 
But  the  "  reserved  rights  "  which  Bismarck  con- 
sented to  recognise  in  the  southern  states  were  merely 
harmless,  formal  concessions  made  to  particularist 
susceptibilities  or  prejudices,  and  were  never  a  real 
menace  to  the  unity  of  the  nation.  The  German 
princes  kept  up  the  appearance  of  a  fairly  wide 
autonomy  ;  but  in  reality  they  had  lost  all  effective 
power  for  ever.  The  rivalries  which  had  before 
paralysed  the  strength  of  Germany  could  never  again 
arise  ;  they  were  from  that  time  forward  reduced 
to  the  level  of  insignificant  provincial  bickerings, 
to  which  no  serious  importance  could  be  attached. 
After  the  war  of  1870  there  were  no  longer  any 
states  in  Germany,  but  only  provinces.  The  author- 
ity of  the  Emperor  grew  stronger  and  stronger, 
and  the  institutions  of  the  Empire  were  developed 
on  lines  favourable  to  unity.  The  new  Germany 
founded  by  Bismarck  was  not  merely  a  federation 
of  independent  states,  but  a  really  strong  military 
monarchy  hardly  less  centralised  than  the  other 
states  of  Europe. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    GERMAN    EMPIRE    AND    HER    FOREIGN    POLICY 


Force  had  accomplished  the  task  in  which  free  will 
had  failed.  Conquered  by  Prussian  bayonets  and 
then  led  forward  to  victory  under  the  auspices  of 
Prussia,  Germany  had  succeeded  in  gaining  unity, 
not  by  virtue  of  any  spontaneous  decision  on  the 
part  of  the  nation,  but  through  the  indomitable  will 
to  power  of  the  Prussian  State.  But  none  the  less 
had  she  attained  the  goal  towards  which  her  hopes 
had  soared  for  a  whole  century.  The  Empire  was 
restored.  And  from  that  moment  Germany  became 
sincerely  desirous  of  peace.  Indeed,  it  is  a  remark- 
able fact,  and  one  entirely  to  the  credit  of  the  nation, 
that  her  successes  in  war  did  not  inspire  her  with  a 
lust  for  battle  or  tempt  her  to  continue  the  exten- 
sion of  her  territory  by  force  of  arms.  After  1870 
neither  the  people  nor  their  rulers  desired  fresh  wars. 
They  realised  that  Germany  was  "  satiated,"  and 
that  she  required  long  years  of  peace  in  order  to 
consolidate  her  conquests,  organise  her  internal 
affairs,  and  develop  her  industry.  All  classes  alike 
longed  for  peace. 

But  the  position  Germany  had  won  by  force  of 
arms  could  not  be  maintained  unless  she  commanded 
the  respect  of  her  adversaries  by  the  superiority  of 
her  power. 

138 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN    POLICY       139 

Internal  difficulties,  it  is  true,  were  no  longer  to 
be    feared.     Germans    quickly    forgave    Prussia    for 

V  having  handled  them  rather  roughly  in  order  to  lead 
them  to  unity.  Complaints  were,  indeed,  occasion- 
ally heard  of  Prussian  pride  and  arrogance.  But 
the  bitterness  which  existed  here  and  there  and  the 
trifling  differences  which  occasionally  arose  in  no 
way  compromised  the  feeling  of  national  solidarity. 
Particularism  had  been  conquered  once  for  all,  and 
was  incapable  of  creating  any  serious  difficulties  for 
the  new  masters  of  Germany. 

But  the  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  non-German 
nations  which  the  victories  of  Prussia  had  incor- 
porated in  the  Empire  was  more  serious.  On  the 
east,  the  Poles  continued  to  prove  refractory  against 
every  attempt  to  Teutonise  them,  and  obstinately 
maintained  their  nationality  in  the  face  of  their 
German  masters.  In  the  north,  Northern  Schleswig 
remains  to  this  day  so  irreconcilably  Danish,  that 
even  after  forty  years  of  separation  the  people  have 
not  ceased  to  protest  against  an  annexation  about 
which,  in  spite  of  the  stipulations  made  by  the 
Treaty  of  Prague,  they  were  never  consulted,  and 
which  did  violence  to  their  national  feelings.  In 
the  west,  Alsace-Lorraine,  after  having  for  years 
asserted  her  loyalty  to  defeated  France  and  her 
hatred  for  the  victors,  at  last,  it  is  true,  ended 
by  bowing  to  the  inevitable.  But  although  to-day 
she  makes  no  difficulties  for  Germany  from  the 
national  and  political  point  of  view,  she  none  the 
less  continues  to  oppose  her  in  matters  of  culture,  and 
openly  proves  her  determination  not  to  be  stripped 
of  her  own  individuality,  but  to  remain  a  land  of 
mixed  culture — half-French  and  half-German.  Thus, 
immediately  after  1870,  and  even  to-day,  there  are 


140  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

a  certain  number  of  subjects  of  the  Empire  who 
submit  with  more  or  less  resignation  to  the  estab- 
lished state  of  thing's,  and  have  never  given  their 
heartfelt  adhesion  to  the  verdict  of  battle  which 
made  them  Germans.  But  it  must  be  remembered 
that  these  cases  of  opposition,  however  legitimate 
and  imposing  may  have  been  the  causes  which 
inspired  them,  remained  as  a  rule  fairly  passive 
and  ineffectual.  They  were  too  isolated  and  too 
obviously  impotent  for  the  nation  to  take  offence 
at  them. 

But  if  the  material  and  moral  unity  of  the  Empire 
was  an  accomplished  fact,  Germany  had  provoked 
external  enmities,  which  immediately  after  the  war, 
it  is  true,  were  not  very  formidable,  but  which  might 
become  dangerous.  The  Treaty  of  Frankfort  created 
between  France  and  Germany  a  condition  of  covert 
hostility,  which  by  being  indefinitely  prolonged,  was 
destined  to  inflict  a  reign  of  armed  peace  and  mutual 
mistrust  upon  them  both. 

Germany  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  show  France 
any  consideration  after  her  defeat.  Convinced  that 
a  war  of  revenge  was  inevitable  after  a  short  interval, 
and  that  France,  as  soon  as  she  had  renewed  her 
strength,  would  reopen  the  everlasting  conflict 
against  Germany,  Bismarck  and  the  military  party 
had  concerned  themselves  exclusively  with  the  task 
of  making  it  impossible  for  her  to  do  any  harm 
for  a  long  time  to  come,  and  of  securing  for  Germany, 
in  view  of  the  future  war,  a  favourable  strategic 
position.  Under  these  circumstances,  they  did  not 
hesitate  to  demand  the  cession  of  Alsace-Lorraine, 
which  they  regarded  as  a  military  bulwark,  the 
glacis  which  was  indispensable  to  the  security  of 
Germany,  and  also  a  gate  of  entry  which  gave  them 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       141 

the  power  of  invading  France  at  any  moment.  Little 
did  they  care  for  the  heartbreaking  protestations  of 
public  opinion  against  a  stipulation  which  lacerated 
the  profoundest  depths  of  the  French  spirit.  They 
placed  the  interests  of  their  own  country  before  every 
other  consideration.  That  which  force  had  created, 
force  would  surely  know  how  to  retain.  And  thus 
the  worship  of  force  became  more  deeply  rooted  than 
ever  in  the  German  mind.  It  was  in  this  case  not 
merely  the  expression  of  that  feverish  desire  for 
material  power  in  every  shape  and  form,  which  we 
have  seen  was  one  of  the  fundamental  psychological 
characteristics  of  the  new  era.  It  was  also  fortified 
by  the  feeling  that  the  international  compact  which 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  German  Empire  of  to-day 
was  never  accepted  by  the  enemy  save  as  the  ex- 
pression of  an  established  condition  of  things.  The 
maintenance  of  that  superior  strength  upon  which 
her  present  greatness  was  based,  therefore  seemed 
to  Germany  a  matter  of  life  and  death  ! 

Thus  the  maintenance  and  development  of  her 
military  power  continued  to  hold  the  first  place  in 
the  mind  of  Germany.  She  was  persuaded — and 
carefully  cultivated  this  conviction  among  the  people 
— that  France  desired  revenge,  that  she  was  pre- 
paring for  it  with  determination,  and  that  she  would 
take  it  without  a  moment's  hesitation  the  instant 
she  felt  herself  the  stronger  power.  It  was  there- 
fore imperative  for  Germany  to  be,  in  Bismarck's 
words,  "  ever  on  the  watch  "  and  for  her  to  keep 
"  her  powder  dry  and  her  sword  sharp."  The  more 
formidable  the  German  army  was,  the  more  crushing 
and  indisputable  would  be  her  superiority,  and  the 
better  would  peace  be  assured.  Immediately  after 
the  war,  preparations  began  to  be  made  for  the  con- 


(a,  ,W  OJh^' 


142  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

flict  of  the  future.  A  war  fund  was  put  in  reserve  in 
the  fortress  of  Spandau  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the 
first  days  of  mobilisation.  The  principal  fortresses 
were  restored  and  rebuilt  and  numberless  strategic 
fortifications  constructed.  Then  in  1874  the  "  sep- 
tennarian  "  military  law  was  passed  by  the  Reichstag, 
fixing  for  seven  years  the  peace  footing  of  the  army 
and  the  amount  of  the  military  budget.  In  1875 
came  the  law  about  the  Landwehr,  and  in  1887-88 
fresh  military  grants  were  wrung  from  Parliament 
by  means  of  a  dissolution,  and  by  parading  before 
the  country  the  spectre  of  an  immediate  war  with 
France  and  Russia.  In  1890  there  wras  the  reform 
of  the  artillery,  followed  in  1892-93  by  the  successful 
establishment  of  compulsory  military  service  for  all, 
which  increased  the  peace  strength  of  the  army  by 
over  a  hundred  thousand  men,  and  was  made  accept- 
able to  the  nation  by  the  reduction  of  the  period  of 
service  to  two  years.  In  1899  a  fresh  increase  in  the 
army  estimates  was  obtained  from  the  Reichstag  by 
the  Government.  In  short,  there  was  an  untiring 
solicitude  to  keep  alive  the  military  spirit  of  the 
whole  nation,  classes  and  masses  alike,  and  to  main- 
tain the  prestige  of  the  army  and  of  the  career  of  the 
soldier. 

And  these  persevering  and  methodical  efforts  bore 
their  fruit.  Preached  to  the  children  in  school,  firmly 
implanted  in  the  breasts  of  the  soldiers  during  their 
service  in  the  regiment,  carefully  fed  by  numberless 
patriotic  associations  throughout  the  country,  the 
cult  of  the  army  has  few  infidels  in  Germany.  It  is 
true  that  the  more  disagreeable  aspects  of  militarism 
have  begun  to  make  themselves  felt.  Opposition 
papers,  novels,  and  plays,  to-day  attack  certain 
abuses,  denounce  the  bad  treatment  meted  out  to  the 


fc 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       143 

soldiers,  criticise  the  aristocratic  organisation  of  the 
staff  of  officers,  and  paint  in  the  blackest  colours 
the  artificial  and  depressing  life  led  by  the  soldier  in 
time  of  peace.  But  these  pessimistic  opinions  are 
certainly  only  current  in  a  very  restricted  circle.  The 
country  as  a  whole  remains  profoundly  attached  to 
the  army,  and  is  imbued  with  the  martial  spirit  which 
made  the  greatness  of  Prussia.  It  bears  without  a 
murmur  the  heavy  weight  of  its  formidable  arma- 
ments. It  regards  the  maintenance  of  great  military 
power  as  an  inevitable  necessity,  which  is  even  bene- 
ficial and  glorious,  and  considers  all  idea  of  wishing 
to  alleviate  this  heavy  burden  as  purely  illusory. 

At  the  same  time  as  Germany  brought  all  the 
weapons  of  pride  and  good  management  to  bear  in 
order  to  raise  her  armaments  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  perfection,  and  ensure  her  position  as  the  first 
military  power  in  the  world,  she  also  aimed  at 
making  her  situation  in  Europe  impregnable  by  a 
system  of  alliances  which  were  intended,  in  the  case 
of  war,  to  secure  her  a  conspicuous  superiority  over 
any  enemy. 

It  will  be  sufficient  to  recall  in  a  few  words  the  way 
in  which  the  diplomatic  genius  of  Bismarck  succeeded 
in  solving  this  problem,  how  he  reassured  Europe  as 
to  the  pacific  intentions  of  his  country,  how  he  pre- 
vented a  coalition  of  the  discontented  and  jealous 
elements  which  existed  in  nearly  every  nation  owing 
to  the  sudden  elevation  of  Germany,  and  how  he 
negotiated  first  the  Treaty  of  the  Three  Emperors 
and  the  organisation  of  the  Austro-German  Alliance 
(1879),  then  the  Triple  Alliance  (1883),  thus  grouping 
round  Germany  against  Russia  on  the  one  side,  and 
France  on  the  other,  first  Austria,  who  had  been 
cleverly  humoured  after  Sadowa,  and  then  a  little 


144  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

later  on  Italy,  who  found  her  interests   conflicting 
with  those  of  France  on  account  of  her  Mediterranean 
policy.     And  we  all  know  the  strong  position  which 
this    diplomatic    combination    won  for    Germany  in 
Europe.     It  can,  of  course,  be  pointed  out  that  other 
groups  also  came  into  being  which  combined  forces 
that   were   almost   as   strong.     The   Franco-Russian 
Alliance  and  the  more  recent  Anglo-French  under- 
standing were  counterweights  to  the  Triple  Alliance. 
It  has  even  been  open  to  question  whether  Italy  had 
not  some  idea  of  loosening  a  little  the  bonds  which 
united  her  to  her  Teutonic  allies.     At  the  Algeciras 
Conference  Austria  alone  upheld  the  pretensions  of 
Germany  against  all  the  Western  Powers.     And  in- 
fluential organs  of  the  German  press  have  had  reason 
to  complain  of  the  "  isolation  "  of  Germany  in  Europe 
and  to  blame  the  policy  which  led  to  this  result. 
Nevertheless  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  Austro- 
German  Alliance,  even  if  it  is  reduced  to  these  two 
powers  alone,  forms  an  exceedingly  impressive  body, 
and  is  sufficient  to  ensure  for  Germany,  in  the  con- 
cert of  Europe,  an  influence  which  no  one  will  dream 
of  disputing. 

Under  these  circumstances  German  public  opinion 
considers  that  France  has  ceased  to  be  a  formidable 
rival  to  Germany.  Germans  regard  her  as  definitely 
out-distanced  and  incapable  of  ever  again  being  in 
a  position  to  reopen  the  struggle  for  supremacy 
with  any  chance  of  success.  They  consider  it  proved 
that  the  superhuman  effort  made  by  France  immedi- 
ately after  the  war  to  create  for  herself  a  military 
force  as  strong  as  that  of  Germany  has  failed.  The 
ever-increasing  difference  between  the  population  of 
France  and  that  of  Germany  ensures  the  military 
superiority  of  the  latter  with  ever  greater  certainty. 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  FOREIGN  POLICY       145 

Moreover  the  decrease  in  the  number  of  marriages 
and  in  the  birth-rate  in  France  are  symptoms  of   a 
deep-seated  evil,  of  a  dangerous  exhaustion,  which 
deprives  her  of  all  chance  of  regaining  lost  ground. 
And  it  is  also  admitted,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the 
Russian  Alliance  and  the  understanding  with  Eng- 
land have  not  modified  the  situation  in  her  favour. 
These   alliances,  in   which   France  is  obliged  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  minor  role  in  relation  to  the  more 
enterprising  and  "  expansive  "   Powers  with  whom 
she  has  allied  herself,  have  at  present  brought  her  no 
nearer  to  the  goal  at  which  she  is  aiming — that  con- 
tinental revenge  for  which  we  are  assured  she  has 
never  ceased  to  hope.     Russia  has  gained  consider- 
able   financial    advantages    from    her   alliance    with 
France.     But    none   the   less   has  she   continued  to 
follow  an  entirely  independent  international  policy, 
and  has  apparently  put  off  to  some  dim  future  all 
idea  of  a  Franco-Russian  crusade  against  Germany. 
As    for    England,    she    would    like    nothing    better 
than   to   set  Germany  and  France   by   the  ears  as 
she  did  Japan  and  Russia,  and  the  Anglo-French 
understanding    almost    involved    France    in    a    war 
in  which,  on  the  Continent,  her  armies  would  have 
found   themselves    alone    in    the    field    against    the 
forces  of  Germany.     This   is   a   combination    which 
has  had  but  small  advantages  for  France.     And  the 
Morocco  business  has  just  proved — in  the  eyes  of 
certain  German  publicists — that  if  France  was  obliged 
some  time  ago  to  renounce  all  idea  of  acting  as  a 
counterweight  to  the  military  power  of   Germany, 
she  must  in  the  future  also  give  up  all  hope  of  kindling 
a  coalition  war  against  Germany,  and  of  destroying 
her  legitimate  power  by  the  menace  of  a  Franco- 
Russian  or  a  Franco-Anglo-Russian  Alliance. 
10 


146     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

We  cannot  hide  from  ourselves  the  fact  that  con- 
servative Germany  regards  France  with  a  suspicion 
tinged  with  contempt.  She  is  looked  upon  as  in- 
fected to  the  marrow  with  the  poison  of  revolution, 
given  over  to  the  hands  of  Jacobins  and  Socialists, 
condemned  to  inefficient  government  and  chaotic 
administration,  diseased  even  in  her  living  institutions 
and  in  her  military  power,  to  which  the  internation- 
alist and  anti-militaristic  propaganda  is  such  a  grave 
menace.  She  is  considered  a  nation  undermined  by 
decadence,  whose  vitality  is  too  low  to  allow  of  her 
entering  boldly  into  international  politics,  and  who 
is  gradually  falling  to  the  position  of  a  second-rate 
Power.  Too  vain  to  confess  her  weakness  and  too 
impulsive  to  know  how  to  consent  to  the  necessary 
renunciations,  France  remains  in  spite  of  everything 
capable  of  sudden  outbursts  of  violence,  because  at 
heart  she  is  uneasy  and  not  quite  mistress  of  herself. 
People  still  believe  that  an  ardent  desire  for  revenge, 
the  aspiration  to  the  hegemony  of  Europe,  and  lastly 
the  lust  of  conquest — the  only  one  of  the  old  tradi- 
tions of  French  policy  which  has  survived  under  the 
Third  Republic— still  inspire  her  acts  to-day.  And, 
under  these  circumstances,  the  foreigner's  attitude  to- 
wards France  is  one  of  watchfulness.  German  public 
opinion  is  periodically  filled  with  the  suspicion  that 
she  is  nourishing  designs  of  invasion,  and  is  constantly 
interpreting — or  pretending  to  interpret — as  warlike 
designs  or  as  calculated  insults  any  efforts  made  by 
her  to  free  herself  from  the  position  of  restraint  and 
dependence  in  which  she  was  placed  immediately 
after  the  war,  and  to  secure  her  own  safety,  as  others 
have  done,  by  increased  armaments  and  diplomatic 
machinations.  And  Germany  on  her  side  sometimes 
arouses   in    the  hearts  of  Frenchmen,   by  the  stiff- 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       147 

ness  of  her  attitude  and  the  ostentatious  display 
of  her  forces,  the  suspicion — unjustifiable  perhaps — 
that  her  intentions  may  possibly  be  less  pacific  than 
she  declares,  and  that  she  would  not  be  sorry  to  re- 
peat against  France  the  manoeuvre  in  which  Bismarck 
succeeded  so  well  in  1870. 

This  is  not  the  place  in  which  to  discuss  this 
"  legend  "  about  France  which  is  current  in  an 
important  section  of  public  opinion  in  Germany.  Is 
France  undergoing  a  process  of  social  decomposition, 
or  is  she  simply  in  the  midst  of  a  transformation  ? 
Does  the  French  democracy,  which  is  so  resolutely 
pacifist,  really  dream  of  any  act  of  aggression  against 
Germany,  carried  out  with  the  object  of  winning  back 
her  lost  provinces  by  force  ?  Or  is  it  not  rather 
Germany  who  is  haunted  by  the  suspicion  that 
France  is  spending  her  whole  time  in  planning  a  war 
of  revenge  ?  These  are  questions  which  it  seems  to 
me  useless  to  discuss  here.  I  will  confine  myself  to 
pointing  out  that  although  intellectual  and  artistic 
intercourse  between  the  two  nations  is  more  active 
than  ever,  though  great  progress  has  been  made 
towards  a  closer  understanding,  which  all  regard  as 
in  the  highest  degree  rational  and  desirable,  and 
though  on  both  sides  people  are  learning  to  know 
and  respect  each  other  better,  yet,  ever  since  the 
peace  of  Frankfort,  there  has  existed  between  France 
and  Germany  a  certain  mutual  mistrust  difficult  to 
eradicate,  which  is  ever  ready  to  spring  once  more 
into  existence. 

Just  as  in  the  domain  of  economics  the  unchaining 
of  universal  competition  everywhere  gave  rise  to  a 
vague  feeling  of  discomfort,  that  profound  sentiment 
of  insecurity  which  hovers  over  the  whole  of  modern 
existence,  so  too  in  the  life  of   nations  the  intense 


148  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

development  Q_f  the  will  to  power  and  of  "  national- 
istic "  or  "  imperialistic  "  policy  has  resulted  in  the 
pessimistic  conviction  that  brute  force  is  the  only 
arbitrator  between  countries,  and  that  the  weak  are 
always  exposed  to  the  danger  of  being  violated  by 
the  strong.  Hence  arose  the  passionate  desire  to  be 
strong  at  all  costs,  and  to  push  to  its  most  extreme 
limits  the  offensive  and  defensive  strength  of  the 
nation.  It  was,  beyond  a  doubt,  the  experiences  of 
1870 — corroborated  and  confirmed,  moreover,  by 
many  other  episodes  in  contemporary  history — 
which  inclined  the  mind  of  France,  as  well  as  that 
of  Germany,  to  this  way  of  thinking.  To  what 
extent  is  this  attitude  justified  by  the  nature  of 
things  themselves  ?  To  what  point  is  it  neces- 
sary for  an  increasingly  large  proportion  of  national 
energy  to  be  expended  with  the  sole  object  of 
securing  a  country  against  the  brutal  aggression 
of  a  powerful  neighbour  ?  Will  the  efforts  of  the 
pacifists  succeed  in  creating  an  international  code  of 
morality  which  will  make  armed  conflicts  between 
nations  an  impossibility  ?  These  are  questions 
which  with  painful  insistency  demand  an  answer  from 
the  man  of  to-day.  German  public  opinion,  by  an 
overwhelming  majority,  has  decided  that  they  are 
still  very  far  from  being  solved.  Germany  remains, 
as  we  have  seen,  faithful  to  the  cult  of  the  army, 
proud  of  her  power,  and  determined  not  to  allow  it 
to  decline.  Even  among  the  mass  of  Socialists  the 
feeling  of  the  international  solidarity  of  the  masses 
has  not  seriously  undermined  the  patriotic  spirit. 
More  than  ever  does  united  Germany  stand  erect 
upon  the  threshold  of  the  new  century  as  an  admir- 
ably organised  will  to  power,  which  is  quite  deter- 
mined not  to  go  in  for  disarmament. 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       149 

II 

Nevertheless,  the  ambition  of  Germany  no  longer 
aims  entirely  at  asserting  her  power,  in  the  midst 
of  Europe  in  arms,  by  the  superiority  of  her  military 
organisation  and  the  solidity  of  her  alliances.  She 
has  no  longer  an  exclusively  European  policy— she 
has  also  a  universal  one.  The  idea  of  German  im- 
perialism underwent,  during  the  last  stage  of  the 
national  evolution,  a  fresh  extension,  which  we  must 
now  describe  in  all  its  bearings. 

In  the  first  place,  the  present  German  Empire  does 
not  consist  of  Germany.  It  is — and  German  his- 
torians are  quite  willing  to  acknowledge  it — an  in- 
complete and  doubtless  provisional  solution  of  the 
German  question.  "  Germany "  extends  to  every 
region  in  which  the  German  language  is  supreme  and 
German  culture  flourishes.  On  every  side  she  over- 
flows the  boundaries  of  the  Empire.  Cisleithanian 
Austria  contained  in  1900  a  sum-total  of  9,171,000 
Germans — that  is  to  say,  36  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
population — who  energetically  preserve  their  nation- 
ality, their  language,  their  culture,  and  their  domi- 
nating influence,  and  are  engaged  in  a  bitter  struggle 
for  territory — especially  in  Bohemia— with  the  Slav 
majority  among  whom  they  live,  and  endeavour  by 
every  possible  means  to  establish  their  superiority. 
Trans-Leithanian  Austria,  in  spite  of  the  desperate 
struggle  of  the  Magyars  against  the  Teutonic  element, 
still  contains  2,135,000  Germans — that  is  to  say,  33*3 
per  cent,  of  the  whole  population — who  keep  their 
footing  with  tenacity,  or  even  gain  ground,  as  in 
Croatia  and  Slavonia,  where  the  German  population 
has  more  than  quadrupled  during  the  last  fifty  years. 
To  the  east  "  Greater  Germany  "  claims  the  250,000 


150  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Germans  who  constitute  the  rich  cultured  minority 
in  the  Baltic  provinces  of  Russia.  To  the  south  she 
embraces  German  Switzerland,  though  here  appar- 
ently the  Teutonic  element  has  undergone  a  slight 
decrease  in  comparison  with  the  Welsche  popu- 
lation.1 On  the  west  she  includes  Holland  and 
Flemish  Belgium,  with  their  large  German  colonies 
(32,000  in  Holland,  68,000  in  Belgium  and  Luxem- 
burg). In  these  two  countries  of  Teutonic  extraction, 
whose  commercial  relations  with  Germany  grow  more 
active  every  day,  an  independent  culture  has  sprung 
up  in  opposition  to  the  French  culture,  which  must 
necessarily  renew  the  traditional  bonds  which  once 
bound  them  to  Teutonic  civilisation. 

Then,  in  addition  to  the  countries  in  which  the 
Teutonic  element  has  flourished  for  a  long  time,  and 
in  more  or  less  compact  masses,  ideal  Germany  also 
contains  all  Germans  who  have  left  their  native  land 
either  with  or  without  the  intention  of  returning  ; 
soldiers  who  offered  their  services  to  foreign  masters, 
Catholic  and  Protestant  missionaries,  Asiatic  and 
African  explorers,  and  above  all  emigrants  who, 
driven  out  by  poverty  or  by  a  spirit  of  adventure, 
go  to  seek  their  fortunes  across  the  seas.  All  these 
Germans,  whom  destiny  has  planted  in  every  corner 
of  the  globe,  form  also  a  very  appreciable  element  in 
the  power  of  Germany. 

The  increase  in  emigration,  especially  since  1830, 
is  well  known.  It  is  estimated  that  at  least  5 
million  Germans  left  the  mother  country  during  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  that  chiefly  during  the  ten 
years  from  1881  to  1890  (1-3  millions).  Thus  large 
numbers  of  German  colonies  have  come  into  existence, 
the  most  important  of  which  is  that  in  the  United 

1  See  note  on  p.  134. 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       151 

States.  According  to  statistics,  there  are  25  million 
Americans  of  German  extraction,  and  10  to  12  million 
whose  German  origin  is  more  clearly  marked,  either 
by  the  fact  that  they  have  German  parents  or  that 
they  have  preserved,  in  their  customs  and  their 
culture,  some  tie  with  the  mother  country.  And  this 
imposing  colony — there  are  almost  as  many  Germans 
in  the  United  States  as  in  Austria — would  be  an 
asset  of  the  highest  importance  for  Teutonic  power 
were  it  not  that  the  German  element  allows  itself 
to  be  assimilated  with  such  facility,  and  loses  its 
racial  characteristics  in  the  second  and  third  and 
sometimes  even  in  the  first  generation. 

In  South  America  the  emigrants,  who  are  far  less 
numerous  than  in  the  United  States — their  numbers 
have  not  quite  reached  half  a  million — have  on  the 
contrary  preserved  their  national  character  better. 
Important  establishments  are  to  be  found  in  Chili, 
in  Bolivia,  in  Buenos  Ayres,  and  above  all  in  Brazil, 
where,  in  the  state  of  Rio  Grande  do  Sul  especially, 
a  flourishing  colony  of  almost  200,000  people  has 
sprung  up — that  is  to  say,  about  half  the  entire 
German  population  of  Brazil.  In  Australia  the 
German  colonies  seem  destined,  as  in  the  United 
States,  to  become  rapidly  absorbed  by  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  element.  On  the  other  hand,  the  German 
colonies  which  have  emigrated  eastwards  in  the 
direction  of  Turkish  and  Russian  possessions,  or 
which  have  penetrated  as  far  as  the  Caucasus, 
Turkestan,  and  Siberia  on  the  one  side,  and  Palestine 
on  the  other,  seem  to  have  preserved  their  racial 
characteristics  better  and  are  likely  to  develop  and 
prosper.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  other  German 
centres  in  Asia  (especially  in  the  Dutch  colonies)  and 
in  Africa,  where — above  all  in  the  Cape — the  German 


152  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

element  is  exceedingly  strong,  and  may  one  day  be 
called  upon  to  play  a  very  important  part  in  spite 
of  the  recent  defeat  of  the  Boers.  Lastly,  in  order 
to  complete  this  enumeration  of  the  forces  of 
Teutonism,  we  must  include  the  crowds  of  Germans 
scattered  throughout  the  countries  of  Europe,  especi- 
ally in  France  (87,000),  in  England  (53,000),  in  Italy 
(11,000),  in  Denmark  (35,000),  in  Scandinavia, 
Servia,  Bulgaria,  Roumania,  Turkey,  etc. 

At  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  sum-total 
of  Germans  resident  in  Europe  was  estimated  at 
76|  millions,  to  which  must  be  added  12  million 
Germans  settled  in  other  parts  of  the  world — that  is 
to  say,  over  10  million  in  the  United  States,  400,000 
in  North  America,  18,000  in  Central  America,  a  few 
less  than  500,000  in  South  America,  623,000  in  Africa, 
110,000  in  Australasia,  and  88,000  in  Asia. 

We  have  now  completed  the  enumeration  of  the 
living  forces  of  Teutonism  outside  the  Empire.  But 
Germany  does  not  confine  herself  to  sending  forth 
her  people  all  over  the  world  :  her  capital  also  seeks 
for  good  investments  abroad.  In  proportion  as  she 
has  become  an  exporting  country  and  has  increased 
her  industry  and  developed  her  maritime  trade,1  her 
material  interests  abroad  have  grown  to  considerable 
proportions. 

In  Central   Europe  Italy  is  the  chief   country  to 

1  The  German  mercantile  marine  has,  as  we  know,  developed 
since  the  foundation  of  the  Empire  to  an  extraordinary  degree. 
Statistics  show  that  its  transport  capacity  has  trebled  since  1871 
and  doubled  since  1880.  It  does  not  only  trade  between  German 
ports  or  between  German  and  foreign  ports  :  it  has  been  calcu- 
lated that  in  1901  out  of  53"9  million  tons  of  goods  carried  by 
the  German  marine,  3  "3  million  tons  went  from  one  German  port 
to  another,  12 '4  million  from  a  German  to  a  foreign  port  or  vice 
versd,  38"1  million  from  one  foreign  port  to  another. 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       153 

see  her  industry  being  developed,  thanks  to  German 
capital.  In  the  East  the  influence  of  Germany 
makes  itself  felt  principally  in  Turkey.  The  rela- 
tions between  these  two  countries,  which  have  been 
very  cordial  ever  since  the  Russo-Turkish  War,  were 
still  more  firmly  cemented  in  1882  when  the  military 
mission  under  Von  der  Golz  and  Rustow-Pacha 
undertook  the  reform  of  the  Ottoman  army.  Soon 
Turkey  became  a  regular  happy  hunting-ground  for 
German  merchants,  bankers,  and  engineers.  Ger- 
man finance  gradually  became  mistress  of  the  chief 
railways  of  the  Ottoman  Empire.  And  by  a  bold 
policy  of  peaceful  penetration,  based  upon  the  con- 
struction of  great  railways,  German  finance  is  en- 
deavouring to  open  up  Asia  Minor  and  then  Meso- 
potamia, and  thus  by  a  great  trans-continental 
railway  connect  Constantinople  with  the  Persian 
Gulf.1  The  commercial  relations  of  Germany  with 
the  Far  East  have  also  become  exceedingly  active 
since  the  Norddeutscher  Lloyd  organised  in  1886  a 
regular  service  between  the  German  ports  and  the 
principal  ports  of  Asia  and  Australia,  and  above  all 
from  the  moment  when  Germany  obtained  in  1896 
the  concession  of  Tientsin  and  Han-kow,  and  in  the 
following  year  occupied  Kiao-chou.  And  if  the 
influence  of  German  capital  is  not  felt  so  much  in 
Australia  or  North  America,  and  if  it  is  not  de- 
veloping in  Africa  either  as  much  as  Pan-German 
"  colonials  "  would  like,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  very 
powerful   in   South   America,    especially   in   Mexico, 

1  German  capital  built  in  Asia  Minor  the  lines  from  Hai'dar- 
Pacha  to  Eski-Che'ir  and  Angora,  from  Eski-Chei'r  to  Konia,  and 
from  Afiaun  to  Smyrna.  Of  the  Mesopotamian  Railway  it  has 
as  yet  only  succeeded  in  building  the  portion  from  Konia  to 
Boulgourlou,  and  is  for  the  time  being  stopped  by  the  expense 
incidental  to  the  crossing  of  the  Taurus  range. 


154  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Guatemala,  and  Venezuela  ;  but  above  all  in  Southern 
Brazil,  where,  as  we  have  already  seen,  there  is  a 
very  nourishing  German  colony. 

In  1899  statistics  gave  7,000  or  7,500  millions  of 
marks  as  the  sum-total  of  German  capital  invested  in 
concerns  abroad,  and  12,500  to  13,000  millions  of 
marks  as  the  aggregate  of  German  capital  invested 
in  foreign  securities. 

The  growth  of  German  industry  and  the  necessity 
of  protecting  her  interests  abroad  was  inevitably 
destined  to  lead  the  Empire  to  the  gradual  formation 
of  a  colonial  territory. 

Germany,  it  is  true,  only  ventured  upon  this  path 
very  late  in  the  day,  and  then  with  great  prudence 
and  almost  against  her  will.  Public  opinion  showed 
but  little  enthusiasm  for  colonial  expansion,  and 
Bismarck  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  Government 
could  not  successfully  embark  upon  an  active  colonial 
policy  unless  it  was  forced  into  it  by  a  strong  current 
of  national  feeling.  Under  these  circumstances,  next 
to  nothing  was  done  to  acquire  colonies  during  the 
ten  years  following  the  foundation  of  the  Empire. 
The  Government  contented  itself  with  protecting 
German  subjects  and  German  interests  abroad.  This 
it  believed  it  could  do  quite  efficaciously,  without 
proceeding  to  any  annexations  of  large  tracts  of  land, 
by  confining  itself  to  occupying  at  most  a  port  or  a 
coaling  station,  and  by  putting  into  practice  in  favour 
of  its  subjects  the  policy  of  the  "  open  door."  Now 
this  policy  resulted  in  some  disappointments.  Ger- 
many found  herself  involved  on  several  occasions  in 
disagreeable  and  by  no  means  glorious  conflicts  with 
England,  the  United  States,  and  Spain.  And  in  the 
end  she  was  turned  out  from  various  places  in  which 
she  had  tried  to  secure  a  footing.     The  Fiji  Islands, 


THE    EMPIRE    AND    FOREIGN    POLICY      155 

South  Africa,  and  the  coast  of  Somaliland  slipped  out 
of  her  hands  altogether  ;  and  her  attempts  on  the 
north  coast  of  Borneo,  on  the  Sulu  Isles,  the  Caroline 
Isles,  the  Pelew  Isles,  the  Marianne  Isles,  Samoa, 
Formosa,  and  the  Philippines,  only  ended  in  defeat  or 
in  moderate  success. 

About  the  end  of  the  'seventies  a  fresh  feeling  sprang 
up  in  Germany  with  regard  to  colonial  policy.  A 
number  of  powerful  societies — of  which  the  principal 
one  was  the  Deutsche  Kolonialgesellschaft,  whose  presi- 
dent was  first  Prince  Hohenlohe,  and  then  the  Duke  of 
Mecklenburg — were  formed  with  the  object  of  obtain- 
ing colonies  for  Germany  into  which  she  could  pour 
her  surplus  population  and  to  which  emigration  would 
henceforward  be  directed.  The  idea  of  colonisation 
and  of  national  expansion  was  thus  one  of  their 
principal  ambitions.  As  a  minor  object  they  also 
hoped — and  this  afterwards  became  the  chief  goal 
of  German  colonisation — to  secure  fresh  outlets  for 
German  industry  and  to  offer  good  investments  for 
any  available  German  capital.  During  the  'eighties 
a  distinct  movement  in  public  opinion  could  be  dis- 
cerned ;  bold  traders,  courageous  pioneers,  and  enter- 
prising financiers,  worked  hard  to  gain  and  organise 
some  colonies,  and,  thanks  to  the  intelligent  initia- 
tive and  the  persevering  push  of  high  finance  and 
commerce,  Germany  laid  the  foundations  of  a  colonial 
empire  in  Africa  on  the  one  side  and  in  the  Pacific 
on  the  other. 

Bismarck,  who,  on  principle,  looked  with  mistrust 
on  any  colonial  enterprise,  and  who  was  above  all  con- 
cerned with  preserving  the  power  of  Germany  intact, 
was  dragged  into  this  movement.  It  was  impossible 
for  him  to  refuse  his  support  to  schemes  which  arose 
in  this  way,  but  he  only  pledged  himself  with  extreme 


156     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

caution.  His  first  idea  was  to  allow  the  large  com- 
panies themselves  to  organise  and  administer  the  con- 
quered territories  on  their  own  responsibility.  The 
only  practical  help  he  promised  them  was  to  sub- 
sidise the  quick  steamer  service  to  East  Africa  and  the 
Pacific.  He  thus  counted  on  encouraging  the  com- 
mercial expansion  of  Germany  in  Africa,  the  Ear  East, 
and  in  the  Australian  Archipelago.  Circumstances, 
however,  forced  him  to  make  this  protectorate  much 
more  active  and  effective  than  he  had  at  first  intended. 
He  was  driven  not  only  to  create  a  number  of  maritime 
mails,  and  to  secure  the  existence  of  the  young  Ger- 
man colonies  by  means  of  laborious  negotiations  with 
England,  but  was  also  obliged  to  form  a  Colonial 
Office  in  Berlin,  and  administer  the  colonies  in  the 
name  of  the  Empire,  and  give  them  military  protec- 
tion. The  task  of  colonisation,  begun  without  him 
and  almost  against  his  will  by  private  enterprise,  thus 
gradually  became  a  national  concern. 

Public  opinion  in  high  places,  moreover,  still 
showed  some  hesitation  with  regard  to  colonial  policy. 
If  Bismarck  had  followed  the  development  of  the  task 
of  colonisation  with  growing  sympathy,  his  successor, 
Chancellor  Caprivi,  on  the  contrary,  showed  himself 
decidedly  hostile.  Under  the  influence  of  the  dis- 
taste, prevalent  among  an  important  section  of  the 
community,  for  distant  enterprises,  the  Government 
for  some  time  gave  up  any  active  colonial  policy,  and 
even  showed  signs  of  being  inclined  to  proceed  to  a 
sort  of  liquidation  of  the  past.  The  Anglo-German 
Treaty  of  1890,  which  ceded  the  protectorate  of 
Zanzibar  and  Pemba  to  England,  in  exchange  for  the 
little  island  of  Heligoland,  marks  the  profound  change 
which  had  taken  place  in  official  circles  with  regard  to 
colonial  enterprises. 


THE  EMPIRE  AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       157 

But  this  system  only  prevailed  for  a  fairly  short 
period.  After  the  fall  of  Caprivi,  the  new  Chancellor, 
Prince  Hohenlohe,  once  more  revived  the  traditions 
of  Bismarck.  And  from  that  moment  colonial  ques- 
tions have  never  ceased  to  grow  in  importance.  They 
formed  an  essential  part  of  the  imperialistic  policy  into 
which  Germany  has  thrown  herself  ever  since  the 
'nineties,  and  which  we  shall  describe  in  greater  detail 
presently.  Germany  has  experienced  the  difficulties 
which  no  colonising  power  is  ever  spared.  The  re- 
claiming of  new  countries  from  barbarism  was  not 
accomplished  as  quickly  as  hasty  speculators  hoped. 
Germany  learnt  to  know  what  bloody  revolutions, 
military  expeditions,  and  "  colonial  scandals  "  meant. 
But  apparently  the  country  is  not  yet  tired  of  the 
policy  of  expansion.  The  Colonial  Minister,  Herr 
Dernburg,  said  recently,  in  one  of  his  propagandist 
speeches,  that  during  twenty-two  years  Germany, 
with  an  average  expenditure  of  20  millions  of  marks 
a  year,  had  increased  the  value  of  her  colonial  empire 
by  30,000  millions.  These  were  certainly  encouraging 
results  full  of  promise.  We  do  not  know,  of  course, 
to  what  extent  the  future  will  confirm  or  disprove  the 
optimistic  prophecies  of  the  Colonial  Minister.  The 
fact  remains  that  for  the  time  being  he  is  gaining 
popularity  in  public  opinion,  and  that,  in  spite  of 
recent  disappointments,  Germany  shows  herself  more 
determined  than  ever  in  her  desire  to  maintain, 
exploit,  and  if  possible  extend,  the  colonial  empire 
she  has  actually  won,  or  over  which  her  influence  is 
growing. 

Ill 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  give  a  more  detailed 
description  of  the  new  path  upon  which  the  Germany 


>. 


158  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

of  to-day  has  entered.  For  a  long  time  her  policy 
had  been  above  all  national.  Taking  as  her  basis  the 
German  State,  she  had  had  as  her  aim  the  power  and 
prosperity  of  this  state.  She  had  therefore  been 
above  all  a  European  nation,  chiefly  if  not  exclusively 
concerned  with  the  European  interests  of  Germany 
and  her  position  in  that  continent.  Then  gradu- 
ally her  policy  began  to  grow  universal  and  imperial- 
istic. She  founded  it  no  longer  solely  upon  the  real 
and  concrete  German  Empire,  but  on  Germans  and 
German  interests  throughout  the  world.  And  she 
tended  to  favour  German  expansion  in  every  shape 
and  form  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  Imperial- 
istic "  Germany  "  is  not  confined  within  the  limits 
of  the  Empire — she  embraces  the  whole  domain  of 
Teutonic  interests  ;  she  can  be  extended  to  the  same 
limits  as  those  interests,  and  she  is  capable  of  a  peace- 
ful development  in  proportion  as  the  rays  of  German 
activity  spread  not  only  in  German  territory,  but  also 
abroad.  In  her  conception  states  are  no  longer 
territories  with  rigidly  barricaded  frontiers,  but  rather 
spheres  of  influence  with  ever-varying  limits,  which 
become  every  day  more  inextricably  involved  in  each 
other,  which  penetrate  each  other  mutually,  and  are 
constantly  being  modified  according  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  activity  and  industry  of  a  certain  race. 
In  other  words,  the  struggle  for  power  no  longer 
takes  place  only  between  organised  states,  and  is 
not  only  embodied  in  wars  and  the  conquest  of  fresh 
territory.  It  is  incessantly  going  on  between  Ger- 
man, American,  English,  and  French  "  enterprises." 
It  is  a  never-ending  war — no  longer  a  military  con- 
test, but  an  industrial,  commercial,  and  scientific  one, 
whose  seat  is  the  whole  world,  and  every  spot  in 
which  rival   interests  find  themselves  face  to  face. 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       159 

German  imperialism,  therefore,  does  not  stop  at 
claiming  a  dominant  position  among  the  Powers  of 
Europe.  It  aims  at  developing  German  might  every- 
where^ and  in  every  shape.  It  works  hard  to  tighten 
the  bonds  of  solidarity  between  the  Germans  of  the 
Empire  and  their  brethren  abroad,  and  to  develop 
all  the  German  communities  and  all  the  emigrant 
colonies  in  foreign  lands.  It  encourages  the  outside 
investment  of  German  capital  and  takes  an  interest 
in  the  diffusion  of  German  culture  in  the  world  by 
means  of  schools,  science,  and  books.  Imperialism  is, 
in  short,  the  programme  of  the  system  of  enterprise 
applied  to  politics. 

The  transition  from  a  national  to  a  universal  policy 
has,  however,  not  been  carried  out  without  opposition, 
and  has  not  even  yet  been  radically  accomplished. 

The  history  of  the  economic  policy  of  Germany 
shows  very  distinctly  how  the  change  from  nationalism 
to  imperialism  was  brought  about,  the  obstacles  with 
which  it  met,  and  the  extent  to  which  imperialism  in 
the  end  succeeded.  The  crisis  was  reached  in  1891 — 
the  year  in  which  the  commercial  treaties  which  were  to 
come  into  operation  in  the  following  year,  and  bind  the 
contracting  parties  for  twelve  years,  were  negotiated 
and  discussed  by  public  opinion  and  in  the  Reichs- 
tag. We  all  know  the  important  alternative  which 
was  then  placed  before  the  country.  Did  Germany 
wish  to  preserve  her  full  autonomy  in  the  matter  of 
the  Customs  dues  and  involve  herself  more  deeply  in 
the  system  of  industrial  and  agricultural  protection, 
and  thus  progress  towards  the  ideal  of  a  close  State 
which  is  sufficient  unto  herself  and  makes  herself  as 
independent  as  possible  of  the  foreigner  ?  Or,  on  the 
contrary,  after  her  experience  of  the  protectionist 
policy  carried  out  since  1878,  did  she  wish  to  return 


160  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

to  a  more  liberal  standpoint,  and,  while  still  granting 
to  home  industries  the  protection  they  required,  yet 
by  means  of  commercial  treaties  favour  the  develop- 
ment of  international  intercourse  and  the  growth  of 
the  German  export  trade  ? 

The  German  Government  decided  in  favour  of  the 
Liberal  solution,  and  that  not  only  for  economic 
reasons,  but  also  for  political  considerations— the 
desire  to  cement  the  friendship  between  the  Powers 
forming  the  Triple  Alliance  and  their  satellites,  by 
means  of  economic  bonds,  and  also  the  hope  of 
gradually  opening  up  the  path  to  a  European  Customs 
Union.  Under  these  circumstances  the  Government 
was  supported  by  the  whole  of  Liberal  public  opinion, 
including  even  the  Socialists,  who  saw  in  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  Protectionist  system  an  approach  to  the 
ideal  of  Free  Trade,  but  met  with  decided  opposi- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  Conservatives,  who  imperatively 
demanded  an  effective  protection  for  agriculture, 
and  showed  themselves  hostile  to  the  conclusion  of 
treaties  of  commerce  with  countries  that  exported 
corn-stuffs.  Thus  Germany  was  divided  into  two 
camps.  On  the  one  side  were  ranged  the  repre- 
sentatives of  capitalistic  enterprise,  who  called  for 
a  policy  which  would  facilitate  the  development  of 
international  exchange,  and  thus  favour  the  growth 
of  industry  and  commerce.  On  the  other  side  were 
the  agrarian  Conservatives — the  large  landed  pro- 
prietors east  of  the  Elbe — who  protested  against  the 
radical  transformation  of  Germany  into  an  industrial 
country,  as  they  considered  the  maintenance  of  Ger- 
man agriculture  an  essential  condition  of  national 
health  and  strength,  and  detested  from  the  bottom 
of  their  hearts  the  idea  of  entering  upon  the  perils 
of  world  politics. 


THE   EMPIRE  AND   FOREIGN   POLICY       161 

As  may  be  seen,  it  was  the  very  destiny  of  Germany 
that  was  at  stake.  Was  she  to  carry  out  to  the 
bitter  end  the  evolution  she  had  already  undergone 
under  the  influence  of  the  system  of  enterprise  ? 
Was  she  resolutely  to  turn  her  back  upon  agriculture 
in  order  to  take  up  industry  and  transform  herself 
into  a  huge  factory,  and  sacrifice  everything  to  the 
development  of  her  export  trade  ?  Or,  on  the  con- 
trary, should  she  have  a  reaction  against  the  tide 
which  was  sweeping  her  on  towards  industrialism, 
subsidise  her  agriculture  by  means  of  protective 
tariffs,  and  thus  preserve  her  economic  independence 
and  her  national  character  more  securely  ?  These 
were  the  vital  questions  which  were  fought  out 
between  the  representatives  of  industrial  capitalism 
on  the  one  hand  and  the  agricultural  feudalists 
on  the  other,  with  the  Government  as  arbitrator 
between  them. 

We  know  the  spirit  in  which  the  German  Govern- 
ment solved  the  problem.  It  was  manifestly  im- 
possible for  it  to  curb  the  great  movement  towards 
industrial  expansion  which  was  dragging  the  country 
in  its  wake,  or  to  restore  the  patriarchal,  agricultural, 
and  individualistic  Germany  of  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  It  was  at  the  same  time  not 
anxious  to  throw  overboard  the  Conservatives,  who 
had  always  furnished  the  kingdom  with  its  highest 
civil  and  military  officials,  and  who  represented  a 
social  power  with  which  it  had  no  wish  to  dis- 
pense. It  also  considered  that  the  hour  for  making 
a  radical  decision  had  not  yet  struck.  Although 
there  was  no  question  of  sacrificing  German  industry 
to  agriculture,  it  was  nevertheless  premature  to 
sacrifice  agriculture  to  the  development  of  the 
export  trade.  It  was  therefore  necessary  to  find  a 
11 


162  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

via  media  between  an  imperialistic  and  a  national- 
istic policy,  which  would  allow  industry  and  agri- 
culture alike  the  opportunity  of  developing  in 
accordance  with  their  strength,  and  not  to  pledge 
the  future  irrevocably  to  either  alternative.  This  is 
the  policy  which  the  Imperial  Government  attempted 
to  put  into  effect.  And  in  this  task  it  relied  chiefly 
upon  the  Catholic  Centre,  which,  as  we  shall  see 
later  on,  was  itself  a  composite  party  embracing  the 
representatives  of  the  most  diverse  political  and 
economic  opinions.  This  party,  which  was  obliged 
by  its  constitution  to  support  moderate  measures 
under  pain  of  dissolution,  was  for  this  very  reason 
peculiarly  qualified  to  serve  as  the  pivot  for  a  policy 
of  balance  and  conciliation. 

I  will  confine  myself  to  describing  in  a  few  words 
the  most  important  contemporary  events  in  which 
this  policy  of  the  Imperial  Government  was  carried 
out. 

In  the  first  place,  under  the  Chancellorship  of 
Caprivi,  the  German  Government  concluded  between 
1891  and  1894  a  series  of  commercial  treaties  with 
the  various  Powers  of  Europe,  and  thus  definitely 
became  involved  in  a  universal  policy  in  spite  of  the 
vigorous  hostility  on  the  part  of  the  Conservatives. 
Then  from  1894  onwards  there  were  constant  dis- 
cussions about  the  opening  up  of  a  system  of  canals 
from  the  Trave  to  the  Elbe,  from  Dortmund  to  the 
Rhine,  and  between  the  Rhine,  the  Weser,  and  the 
Elbe.  Though  these  great  schemes  were  violently 
opposed  by  the  Conservative  Agrarian  Party,  who 
saw  that  they  were  tantamount  to  a  subsidy  to  in- 
dustry, they  were  strongly  supported  by  the  Govern- 
ment in  the  Reichstag,  which  ended  by  giving  way 
on  nearly  every  point  to  the  powerful  will  of  the 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  FOREIGN  POLICY        163 

Emperor.  On  the  fall  of  Caprivi  (1894),  who  had 
always  shown  himself  hostile  to  the  policy  of 
colonisation — the  Pan-Germanists  have  never  for- 
given him  for  having  said  that  the  greatest  evil 
that  could  befall  him  would  be  the  offer  of  the 
continent  of  Africa  as  a  present — a  new  spirit 
began  to  animate  German  diplomacy.  The  im- 
perialistic ambitions  of  Germany  began  to  make 
themselves  ever  more  distinctly  and  consciously  felt. 
The  extension  of  Germany  as  a  colonial  and  world- 
wide Power  in  the  Far  East,  in  Africa,  in  Turkey, 
and  in  Morocco,  took  the  first  place  in  the  mind  of 
William  II.  In  1896  the  Government,  by  submitting 
to  the  Reichstag  a  scheme  for  the  increase  of  the 
navy,  showed  its  desire  to  give  Germany  a  fleet 
capable  of  providing  a  strong  support  for  this  new 
imperialistic  policy.  It  is  well  known  how  public 
opinion,  worked  up  to  enthusiasm  by  an  ardent 
propaganda  in  which  the  Emperor  himself  played  an 
active  part,  ended  in  1898  by  imposing  upon  Parlia- 
ment, in  spite  of  its  unwillingness  in  the  first  in- 
stance, the  adoption  of  the  schemes  demanded  by 
the  ministry,  and  how,  ever  since,  Germany  has 
never  ceased  from  methodically  developing  her 
navy,  which  is  to-day  one  of  the  strongest  in  Europe. 
Thus  by  its  commercial  policy,  by  its  attitude 
towards  the  canal  question,  and  the  development  of 
the  navy,  and  by  its  new  spirit  of  solicitude  with 
regard  to  colonial  questions,  the  Imperial  Government 
has  proved  its  determined  desire  to  favour  the 
universal  expansion  of  Germany.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  has  quite  recently,  by  the  establishment  of 
a  general  customs  tariff  in  1902,  and  the  renewal  of 
the  treaties  of  commerce  in  1904,  also  shown  that 
it  does  not  intend,  on  that  account,  to  withdraw  its 


164  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

protection  from  German  agriculture.  By  an  increase 
in  the  duty  on  agricultural  products  and  by  re- 
strictions with  regard  to  the  cattle  and  meat  trade, 
it  has  made  great  concessions  to  agrarian  interests. 
The  new  treaties  of  commerce  are,  on  the  whole,  a 
distinct  victory  for  Protection.  In  a  large  number  of 
cases  the  customs  barriers  separating  the  various 
countries  of  Europe  have  been  materially  raised,  and 
in  spite  of  a  few  slight  improvements  in  the  mechanism 
of  commerical  relations,  the  exchange  of  goods  has 
by  this  means  been  made  more  difficult  than  it 
was  in  the  past.  At  the  same  time  the  evolution  of 
Germany  towards  industrialism,  and  of  Europe  to- 
wards economic  unity  and  the  rational  organisation 
of  trade,  have  been  thrown  back. 

To  what  extent  has  the  German  Government  suc- 
ceeded in  its  mission  of  arbitrator  ?  It  is  clearly 
impossible  for  the  historian  to  give  an  answer  to  this 
question  yet.  The  imperial  policy  has  been  the 
object  of  violent  attacks  both  by  the  Agrarian  Party 
and  by  the  representatives  of  industry,  as  well  as 
the  Liberals.  The  latter  have  recently  shown  them- 
selves exceedingly  discontented.  Without  disputing 
the  economic  development  of  modern  Germany, 
without  even  denying  that  the  year  1906  was  particu- 
larly prosperous,  and  that  the  national  industry  was 
continuing  to  increase  in  the  most  brilliant  manner, 
they  yet  refuse  to  admit  that  the  Government  has 
had  anything  to  do  with  this  progress.  It  was  to  be 
laid  entirely  at  the  door  of  the  felicitous  initiative 
on  the  part  of  capitalists  and  business  men.  The 
Government,  according  to  them,  has  done  nothing 
to  facilitate  their  task.  On  the  contrary,  it  has 
handicapped  them  by  a  commercial  policy  which 
sacrifices  the  interests  of  German  labour  to  those  of 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   FOREIGN   POLICY        165 

the  agricultural  party,  and  by  a  too  personal  foreign 
policy,  which  through  its  ambitious  designs  and  its 
capricious  and  blustering  behaviour  has  sown  unrest 
and  suspicion  everywhere,  and  has  ended  by  isolating 
Germany  in  Europe. 

But  if  the  parties  of  the  Left  have  clearly  but 
little  sympathy  for  a  Government  which  "  combines  a 
universal  and  imperialistic  policy  with  that  of  the 
Prussian  country  squire,"  their  discontent  is  appar- 
ently not  shared  by  the  mass  of  the  people.  Uni- 
versal suffrage  has  just  given  its  verdict  in  favour  of 
the  policy  of  national  expansion  favoured  by  the 
Government,  and  has  thus  proved  the  Emperor  right, 
in  distinction  to  the  "  pessimists  "  (Schzvartzseher), 
who  decry  the  "  new  system."  Under  these  circum- 
stances one  is  tempted  to  admit  that  the  imperial 
will  has  hitherto  succeeded  fairly  well  in  unravelling 
the  multifarious  tendencies  which  have  come  to 
light  in  the  country,  and  that  the  imperialism  of 
contemporary  Germany  has  its  roots  not  only  in 
the  ambitious  dreams  of  a  single  monarch,  but  in 
the  soaring  will  to  power  of  the  nation  itself. 


CHAPTER    V 

THE    GERMAN    EMPIRE    AND    HER    HOME    POLICY 

I 

If  after  the  foreign  policy  of  Germany  we  turn  to 
the  consideration  of  her  internal  evolution,  we  find 
in  the  first  place  that  the  new  Empire,  from  a  con- 
federation of  nominally  autonomous  and  independent 
states,  is  steadily  progressing  towards  unity.  It  shows 
itself  a  vigorous  monarchy,  in  which  the  real  power 
is  placed  in  the  organs  of  the  Central  Government 
—  the  Emperor,  the  Chancellor  and  his  Secretaries 
of  State,  and  the  Reichstag.  The  central  power  has 
the  supreme  control  of  the  army  and  the  navy.  It 
directs  foreign  policy  without  the  individual  states 
having  ever  attempted  to  make  use  of  the  legal  rights, 
conferred  upon  them  by  the  treaties,  to  exercise  any 
control  over  the  actions  of  the  imperial  diplomacy. 
It  has  its  own  revenues,  derived  from  the  customs 
and  from  certain  indirect  taxes  and  monopolies  ;  and 
in  this  way  it  is  no  longer  obliged  to  have  constant 
recourse,  for  the  balancing  of  its  budget,  to  the  matri- 
cular  1  contributions  of  the  states  of  the  Empire.  It 
has  not  succeeded  in  putting  its  hand  upon  the  rail- 
ways, which  have  definitely  remained  the  property 
of  the  various  individual  states.     But  as  Prussia,  by 

1  This  refers  to  the  "  Matricula,"  which  is  the  list  of  the  con  - 
tributions  in  men  and  money,  which  the  several  states  are  bound  to 
furnish  to  the  Empire. — Tr. 

166 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   HOME   POLICY       167 

reason  of  the  importance  of  her  own  railway  system, 
has  gradually  acquired  an  ever-increasing  influence, 
first  over  the  systems  of  Northern  Germany  and 
subsequently  over  those  of  the  centre  and  south  as 
well,  the  Central  Government  finds  itself  in  a  position 
to  exercise  considerable  control  over  the  administra- 
tion of  the  railways  and  the  whole  transport  policy. 
It  has,  moreover,  the  chief  voice  in  the  postal  and 
telegraphic  services.  The  currency  and  the  issue  of 
bank-notes  have  been  made  uniform  throughout  the 
Empire.  Legislation  also  tends  more  definitely 
every  day  towards  being  carried  out  for  the  Empire 
as  a  whole.  In  short,  in  all  the  chief  departments  of 
public  life,  the  central  power  exercises  the  pre- 
ponderating influence. 

'  Germany,"  says  a  recent  historian  of  the  Empire, 
"  remains  a  relatively  decentralised  country,  but 
she  has  no  longer  any  states — she  has  only  parties." 
We  shall  not,  therefore,  have  to  occupy  our  minds 
in  the  future  as  we  did  in  the  past  with  the  rivalries 
between  the  various  sovereigns  of  Germany.  They 
form  a  chapter  in  German  history  which  we  may  re- 
gard as  closed.  In  the  foreground  of  the  political  life 
of  the  nation  we  now  see  the  conflict  between  political 
parties  fighting  for  power.  What  are  these  parties  ? 
What  do  they  want  ?  What  influence  have  they 
over  the  existence  of  the  nation  ?  How  and  under 
what  conditions  does  the  Emperor  exercise  his 
functions  of  arbitrator  between  the  rival  pretensions 
of  these  parties  ?  These  are  the  questions  which 
immediately  spring  to  the  mind,  and  with  which  I 
propose  to  deal  in  this  chapter. 

Let  me  first  point  out  one  general  characteristic, 
which  stands  out  clearly  when  one  examines  political 
life  in  the  new  Empire  :    and  that  is  that  even  the 


168  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

idea  of  a  party  has  undergone,  during  the  last  stage 
in  the  evolution  of  Germany,  a  most  remarkable 
transformation.  We  have  already  seen  how,  towards 
the  middle  of  the  century,  political  struggles  assumed 
a  more  and  more  realistic  complexion,  and  how  con- 
flicts of  ideas  and  principles  gradually  gave  place  to 
conflicts  of  forces.  We  also  saw  how,  in  consequence 
of  the  development  of  capitalistic  enterprise,  the 
will  to  power  and  the  lust  for  wealth  everywhere 
increased  in  intensity.  Now  these  tendencies  were 
only  accentuated  during  the  last  thirty  years  of  the 
century,  and  their  influence  can  be  traced  very  clearly 
in  the  internal  evolution  of  political  parties.  In 
this  case  also  the  original  idealism  gave  way  to  an 
ever  stronger  realism. 

In  the  early  stages  the  bond  which  united  the 
members  of  a  party  was  above  all  one  of  ideas  ; 
men  fought  for  the  triumph  of  a  principle.  The 
Liberals  struggled,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  for  the 
establishment  of  a  constitutional  or  a  republican 
system,  the  Socialists  for  the  realisation  of  the 
communist  or  collectivist  ideal.  The  Conservatives 
defended,  under  the  banner  of  the  principle  of 
authority,  the  power  of  the  King  and  the  preroga- 
tives of  the  nobility.  But,  little  by  little,  parties 
"  socialised  "  themselves  in  some  way,  and  became 
social  groups  which  no  longer  struggled  for  some 
abstract  general  principle,  but  for  class  interests. 
From  the  very  beginning  the  Socialist  Party  had 
stood  for  the  "  Fourth  Estate,"  the  proletariat, 
whose  cause  it  espoused.  The  Liberal  Party 
gradually  became  the  party  of  the  middle  classes, 
especially  of  the  middle-class  capitalists,  and  sup- 
ported the  interests  of  German  industry  and  com- 
merce.    The  Conservative  Party  included  the  landed 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   HOME   POLICY      169 

nobility  and  the  large  landed  proprietors,  and  con- 
stituted itself  the  champion  of  agricultural  interests. 
In  short,  one  gradually  sees  the  conflict  of  ideas 
giving  way  to  class  antagonism.  The  party  tends 
to  become  a  syndicate  of  vested  interests.  Let  us 
examine  this  transformation  a  little  more  closely. 

II 

The  Socialist  Party,  as  is  well  known,  sprang  from 
the  welding  of  two  distinct  elements — the  intel- 
lectual and  the  popular. 

On  the  one  side  we  see  the  proletariat  rising  up 
against  the  conditions  of  existence  imposed  upon 
it  by  capitalism,  and  against  the  exploitation  to 
which  it  was  subjected  and  the  hardships  which  re- 
sulted therefrom.  From  this  arose  the  spontaneous 
sporadic  revolts,  which  had  no  plan  or  organisation, 
in  which  bands  of  working  men,  driven  on  by  hunger 
and  despair,  entered  into  violent  rebellion  against 
the  power  which  oppressed  them,  broke  machines, 
burnt  factories,  and  rifled  the  houses  of  the  detested 
manufacturers.  A  typical  example  was  the  revolt 
of  the  Silesian  weavers,  immortalised  by  Hauptmann 
in  his  famous  drama,  The  Weavers.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  took  place  in  the  educated  classes  an 
intellectual  and  sentimental  revolt  against  the  abuses 
of  capitalism.  Philosophers  undertook  the  task  of 
criticising  modern  society,  and  elaborated  systems 
destined  to  make  the  whole  community  profit  by 
the  discoveries  of  science  and  the  improvements  in 
technical  processes.  And  they  saw  in  communism, 
and  in  a  more  equitable  redistribution  of  wealth,  the 
only  remedy  for  the  evils  of  the  working  classes  and 
for  the  colossal  injustice  which  is  at  the  basis  of  the 


170  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

social  life  of  to-day.     Out  of  the  blending  of  these 
two  currents  Socialism  was  born.     It  was  necessary 
for  the  instinctive  and  brutal  revolt  of  the  masses  to 
become  calculated,  disciplined,  and  organised.     And 
it   was   necessary   for   the   philosophical    "  Utopia," 
germinated  in  the  brain  of  a  few  idealists  and  writers, 
to  be  spread  among  the  populace.     Thus  Socialism 
became  the  rational  organisation  of  the  proletarian 
forces  with  the  object  of  a  conflict  against  capitalism. 
By  very  reason  of  its  ancestry,  Socialism  was  from 
the  beginning  a  Utopian  idea.     The  problem  which 
it  faced  with  the  greatest  eagerness  at  this  period 
of   its   evolution  was  that  of   the  redistribution  of 
property.     And  it  solved  it  by  the  simple  process  of 
transferring  to  the  economic  and  social  sphere    the 
political   ideal   of   liberty,    equality,    and   fraternity. 
Thus  Heine,  for  instance,  changed  from  an  ardent 
political  Liberal  to  a  Socialist  with   views    strongly 
tinged    by  the  doctrines  of    Saint-Simon,  and   pro- 
claimed the  advent  of  a  "  democracy  of  terrestrial 
divinities,  who  would  all  be  equal  in  their  blessedness 
and  sanctity." 

But  in  proportion  as  Socialism  became  organised 
as  a  doctrine  and  as  a  party,  it  also  became  more 
and  more  practical  and  positive.  It  turned  from 
wild  speculations  upon  the  ideal  "  State  "  to  investi- 
gate in  the  first  place  the  problem  of  production. 
Its  object  was  from  that  time  forward  to  organise 
and  regulate  the  production  of  wealth  in  such  a  way 
as  to  secure  to  the  working  classes  the  highest  pos- 
sible amount  of  security  and  well-being.  With  Marx, 
Socialism  turned  resolutely  and  consciously  in  this 
direction.  It  remained  "  revolutionary  "  in  the 
sense  that  it  proclaimed  the  necessity  of  a  radical 
social  upheaval  and  incited  the  masses  to  unite  for 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   HOME   POLICY      171 

the  conquest  of  political  power.  It  foresaw,  as  a 
result  of  this  conquest,  the  general  expropriation  of 
the  capitalists  and  the  centralisation  in  the  hands  of 
the  State  of  all  the  means  of  production,  which  would 
bring  about  the  advent  of  a  new  society  "  in  which 
the  free  development  of  each  individual  was  the 
necessary  condition  of  the  free  development  of  all." 
But  on  the  other  hand,  it  discouraged  any  vague 
dreams  about  the  social  organisation  of  the  future, 
it  definitely  condemned  all  recourse  to  violence,  and 
repudiated  Blanqui's  doctrine  of  forcible  measures 
on  the  part  of  minorities.  It  confined  itself  more 
and  more  to  the  perfectly  practical  task  of  the 
organisation  of  the  masses  with  the  object  of  a  class 
conflict,  and  the  peaceful  conquest  of  power  by 
means  of  the  verdict  of  the  ballot-box  and  the  propa- 
gation of  ideas. 

And  the  recent  development  of  Socialism  shows 
us  the  constant  increase  in  the  practical  activity  of 
the  party.  Its  attitude  was  at  the  beginning  purely 
negative,  and  the  "  revolutionary  "  spirit  was  every- 
where uppermost  among  its  adherents.  But  in  the 
course  of  its  evolution,  it  occupied  itself  more  and 
more  with  positive  reforms,  and  it  may  be  said  that 
the  "  opportunist  "  frame  of  mind  made  constant 
progress  in  its  ranks.  The  party  thus  finds  itself 
as  a  rule  balanced  between  radical  and  reforming 
tendencies,  without,  however,  either  of  them  succeed- 
ing in  stifling  the  other.  The  "  red  "  revolutionaries, 
with  their  Blanquian  and  anarchist  aims,  the  anti- 
parliamentarians,  such  as  Most  and  Hasselmann,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  era  of  repression,  and  men  like 
Wildberger,  Werner,  and  Auerbach,  after  the  Social- 
ists had  been  given  back  their  civic  rights,  never 
succeeded  in  dragging  the  majority  of  the  party  in 


172  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

their  wake.  And  in  the  same  way  the  party  refused 
to  give  an  unqualified  submission  to  "  moderates  " 
like  Bernstein,  who  regarded  the  hypothesis  of  a 
great  social  cataclysm  as  an  illusion,  cast  doubt  upon 
the  theory  of  revolutionary  expropriation,  and  from 
his  colossally  creative  mind  advocated  the  organisa- 
tion and  systematisation  of  labour  from  inside  the 
capitalistic  form  of  society,  and  pointed  out  how 
by  schemes  of  nationalisation,  by  the  progress  of 
Syndicalism  and  co-operation,  and  by  improvements 
in  legislation,  the  new  society  is  gradually  developing 
out  of  the  world  of  to-day. 

Thus  the  Socialist  Party  is  at  once  a  revolutionary 
and  a  reforming  body — reforming  because  it  has 
always  definitely  repudiated  violence  and  forcible 
measures,  and  advocated  a  peaceful  and  positive 
policy ;  revolutionary  because,  in  spite  of  all,  it  has 
kept  its  faith  in  a  radical  transformation  of  society, 
because  it  has  remained  hostile  to  "  a  state  containing 
orders  of  rank  "  of  middle  classes  and  capitalists,  such 
as  it  exists  to-day,  and  because  it  intends  to  go  on 
defending  the  interests  of  the  working  classes  against 
all  others.  But  the  sum-total  of  these  two  tendencies 
shows  without  a  doubt  a  marked  progress  in  the 
direction  of  reform.  Socialism  has  made  its  way 
into  the  Reichstag,  into  several  Landtags,  and  many 
municipal  bodies.  It  has  entered  into  alliance  with 
the  middle-class  parties  in  order  to  secure  the  triumph 
of  its  candidates.  It  tends  more  and  more  to  re- 
pudiate all  extreme  solutions  of  questions,  such  as 
internationalism,  anti-militarism,  and  general  strikes. 
It  exercises  a  vigilant  control  over  the  application  of 
the  laws  for  protecting  and  insuring  labour,  and 
demands  the  organisation  of  a  scheme  of  state 
insurance    against    unemployment,      If    Socialism    is 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  HOME  POLICY         173 

still  hesitating  between  the  creed  of  reform  and  that 
of  revolution,  if,  as  Milhaud  asserts,  "  the  ideas  and 
the  way  of  regarding  and  feeling  things  tend  to  group 
themselves,  as  though  they  were  attracted  to  two 
opposite  poles,  around  the  conception  of  organic  and 
continuous  development  and  that  of  revolution,"  it 
is  none  the  less  clear  that  the  side  of  reform  is  gaining 
ground  every  day,  and  that  the  activities  of  the  party 
are  now  tending  far  less  towards  the  planning  of  a 
radical  upheaval  than  towards  hastening  the  gradual 
socialisation  of  capitalistic  society. 

What  is  the  strength  of  the  Socialist  Party  in  Ger- 
many ?  It  is  without  doubt  considerable.  Bismarck 
felt  some  anxiety  about  its  increase  as  early  as  the 
'seventies.  He  tried  to  stop  it  by  passing  special 
laws  against  Socialists  in  1878,  by  destroying  their 
organisations,  and  by  hindering  their  propaganda  in 
every  possible  way.  The  futility  of  all  these  coercive 
measures  is  well  known.  The  masses  continued  to 
organise  in  spite  of  the  interference  of  the  police. 
And  if  the  Socialist  Party  lost  votes  in  the  elections  of 
1878  and  1881,  it  let  no  time  slip  by  to  make  itself 
more  powerful  than  before.  Ever  since  the  elections 
of  1884,  when  its  candidates  obtained  about  550,000 
votes,  it  found  its  strength  steadily  increasing.  In 
1902  it  secured  over  3,000,000  votes,  and  sent  a  body 
of  79  members  to  take  their  seats  in  the  Reichstag. 

Nevertheless  this  triumphal  march  could  not 
continue  indefinitely.  It  is  certain,  in  the  first  place, 
that  the  electoral  successes  were  not  entirely  to  be 
accounted  for  by  the  diffusion  of  the  ideas  of  Marx. 
There  are  not  3,000,000  militant  collectivists  in  the 
whole  of  Germany.  The  Socialist  Party,  as  the  most 
advanced  portion  of  the  Opposition,  benefited  by  all 
the  discontent  aroused  by  the  Imperial  Government. 


174     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

It  rallied  around  it  not  only  active  Socialists,  but  the 
majority  of  those  who  wished  to  show  their  hostility 
to  the  "  new  system  "  in  as  forcible  a  way  as  possible. 
Then,  if  for  a  long  time  the  labour  movement  in  Ger- 
many confined  itself  chiefly  to  the  realm  of  politics, 
the  proletariat  ended  by  forming  a  solid  organisa- 
tion in  the  domain  of  economics  also.  In  addition 
to  the  political  Social  Democratic  Party  powerful 
syndicalist  organisations  have  lately  come  into  being. 
And  these,  without  doubt,  in  many  respects  combine 
in  action  with  the  political  party,  though  they  none 
the  less  constitute  to  some  degree  a  power  which  is 
up  to  a  certain  point  a  rival.  Between  syndicalist 
and  political  Socialism  controversies  have  occurred 
which,  especially  recently,  have  assumed  an  extremely 
acrimonious  tone,  and  have  given  the  impression  that 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  proletariat  shows  a 
tendency  towards  losing  interest  in  political  activity 
and  is  inclined  to  concentrate  its  efforts  upon  Syn- 
dicalism. 

These  circumstances  explain  the  defeat  of  Socialism 
in  the  elections  of  1907.  This  defeat  was  certainly 
a  warning  to  the  party.  The  Socialists  are  paying  for 
the  bitterness  of  their  internal  discord,  the  violence  of 
their  attacks  against  individuals  and  of  their  press 
campaigns,  and  perhaps  also  for  the  arrogance  they 
display  towards  their  opponents  of  the  "  reactionary 
section  "  and  the  contempt  which  they  heap  at  every 
opportunity  upon  middle-class  Liberalism.  Their 
prestige  in  the  eyes  of  the  country,  and  above  all  in 
the  eyes  of  the  younger  members  of  society,  has  been 
more  or  less  gravely  compromised.  But  if  the  verdict 
of  the  last  elections  proved  once  more  that  nationalist 
and  imperialist  feeling  has  preserved  its  strength  in 
Germany,   it  is  nevertheless    doubtful   whether  this 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  HOME  POLICY       175 

implies  a  reaction  against  socialistic  ideas  in  the 
country.  The  nation  has  shown  its  disapproval  of 
certain  methods  and  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the 
Socialists,  but  there  is  nothing  to  show  that  the  knell 
has  sounded  in  Germany  for  the  downfall  of  collecti- 
vist  doctrines.  With  the  votes  of  3,259,000  electors 
in  its  favour,  Socialism,  although  it  has  lost  thirty-six 
seats,  remains  the  most  important  party  numerically 
— if  not  in  Parliament,  at  all  events  in  the  country.1 

Ill 

The  Liberal  Party,  unlike  the  Socialists,  was  not  at 
first  founded  upon  a  definite  class  of  society.  Al- 
though it  drew  its  recruits  chiefly  from  the  educated 
and  industrial  middle  classes,  and  from  the  working 
men  bordering  upon  the  lower  middle  class,  it  also  in- 
cluded a  fairly  large  number  of  nobles.  As  Liberalism 
was  above  all  a  political  doctrine  it  welcomed  in- 
discriminately, regardless  of  their  origin,  all  those 
who  subscribed  to  its  essential  principles.  It  was 
only  during  the  period  of  reaction  which  followed  the 
Revolution  of  1848,  from  1850  to  1870,  that  the 
antagonism  between  the  Conservative  Party,  in  which 
the  nobility  and  clergy  were  grouped,  and  the  Liberal 
Party  became  accentuated.  The  latter  from  this 
time  forward  became  exclusively  middle-class,  and 
shared  the  destinies  of  that  section  of  the  community. 

Now  the  middle  classes,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
underwent,   in   consequence   of  the   development   of 

1  The  Centre  and  the  Opposition  members  received  2,904,000 
votes  ;  the  Liberals  and  Democrats  2,052,000  ;  the  Conservatives 
of  all  shades  1,802,000.  Since  the  redistribution  of  seats,  which 
was  extremely  unfavourable  for  the  Socialists,  the  latter  have  had 
on  the  average  one  member  to  every  72,000  electors,  whilst  the 
Centre,  the  Liberals,  and  the  Conservatives  have  one  member  to 
every  22,000,  18,000,  and  17,000  voters  respectively. 


176  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

capitalism,  an  exceedingly  grave  crisis  at  the  end  of 
the  century.     The  artisans  who  clung  to  the  skirts 
of  the  lower  middle  class  sank  in  the  social  scale.     The 
educated  middle   class   also   found  its  influence  de- 
clining.    On  the  other  hand,  the  representatives  of 
capitalistic  enterprise  acquired   an  ever  larger  share 
of  power.     The  evolution  of  Liberalism  shows  us  the 
reflection  of  this  internal  crisis.    The  artisans,  menaced 
by  the  development  of  capitalism,  became  more  and 
more  hostile  to  the  principle  of  unrestricted  competi- 
tion, and  ended  by  swelling  the  ranks  of  the  Conserva- 
tive or  the  Catholic  Centre  Party.     The  idealistic  and 
purely  political  element  in  Liberalism  began  to  grow 
weaker,  and  dropped  to  a  subordinate  position.     It 
only  maintained  its  power  among  a  small  section  of  the 
middle  class   who  formed  the  left,   progressive,  and 
democratic  wing  of  the  party,  both  in  the  north  and 
south  of  Germany.     This  section  was  opposed  both  to 
Conservatism    and    to    Socialism,    and    seemed    con- 
demned for  the  moment,  in  spite  of  some  temporary 
successes,  to  a  chiefly  negative  attitude  and  a  some- 
what barren  and  futile  opposition.     The  bulk  of  the 
party,  however,  was  formed  of  the  representatives  of 
the   system  of   enterprise,  who,  after  having  fought 
in  the  front  rank  of  the  cause  of  German  liberty  and 
unity,  are  struggling  to-day,   not  so  much  for  any 
abstract  principles,  as  for  the  defence  of  their  economic 
interests. 

The  evolution  of  this  section  of  the  party — the 
National  Liberal  group — is  peculiarly  instructive  and 
deserves  our  attention  for  a  moment.  It  shows  in 
a  significant  way  how  the  party  tended  to  become 
the  political  organ  of  a  social  group. 

Just  after  1848  the  representatives  of  the  middle 
classes,  especially  in  the  Prussian  Landtag,  were  at 


THE   EMPIRE  AND   HOME   POLICY       177 

once  believers  in  unity,  and  Liberals,  as  much  from 
the  political  as  from  the  economic  point  of  view. 
The  doctrines  of  Free  Trade  and  unrestricted  com- 
petition seemed  to  them  merely  an  extension  into  the 
domain  of  economics,  of  the  great  principle  of  liberty 
which  inspired  the  whole  of  their  political  action. 
Moreover,  until  1866  the  political  struggle  against 
reaction  and  against  the  arbitrary  exercise  of  the 
royal  prerogative  occupied  the  first  place  in  their 
minds. 

In  1867,  after  the  battle  of  Sadowa,  the  elections 
made  a  clean  sweep  of  the  democratic  and  progressive 
opposition,  and  in  the  place  of  these  advanced  ele- 
ments we  find  a  new  party  come  into  being — the 
National  Liberal  group,  containing  renegade  progres- 
sives, the  friends  of  the  Crown  Prince,  and  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  newly  annexed  provinces  or  of  the 
small  duchies.  The  motive  power  of  this  section 
was  patriotic  faith  and  enthusiasm  for  unity.  They 
became  the  firm  supporters  of  the  policy  of  Bismarck. 
Their  Liberalism,  which  had  gained  curiously  in 
wisdom  and  was  ready  for  every  compromise,  had 
become  with  regard  to  politics  more  theoretical  than 
real.  On  the  other  hand,  it  faithfully  reflected  at  this 
moment  the  tendencies  of  the  business  world,  which 
was  in  favour  of  Free  Trade,  and  passed  a  series  of 
Liberal  measures  in  the  domain  of  economics.  During 
the  'seventies  this  was  the  strongest  party  in  the 
Reichstag. 

But  in  1878  a  decisive  crisis  occurred  in  their  history. 
Bismarck,  moved  by  a  very  sound  presentiment  with 
regard  to  the  industrial  and  agrarian  interests  of  the 
country,  abandoned  Free  Trade  for  Protection.  And 
from  that  moment  the  National  Liberals  found  them- 
selves face  to  face  with  a  formidable  dilemma.  They 
12 


178  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

had  to  choose  the  alternative  of  either  remaining 
faithful  to  their  principles,  and  consequently  breaking 
both  with  the  Government  and  the  business  world, 
which  was  being  dragged  in  the  wake  of  the  Protec- 
tionist reaction,  or  else  denying  their  faith  of  economic 
Liberalism  as  they  had  denied — or  almost  denied — 
their  political  Liberalism,  and  thus  throwing  overboard 
the  fundamental  principle  in  the  name  of  which  they 
had  in  the  beginning  formed  themselves  into  a  group. 
Under  these  circumstances  a  split  took  place  in  the 
party.  The  minority  remained  faithful  to  their 
principles,  and  in  1880  organised  a  movement  towards 
the  Left,  and  held  out  their  hands  to  the  Progressives, 
whose  importance  was  thus  once  more  increased. 
The  majority,  on  the  contrary,  followed  the  evolution 
which  was  dragging  the  business  world  in  its  wake, 
and  from  that  moment  fell  into  an  ever  more  complete 
dependence  upon  the  representatives  of  the  system 
of  enterprise.  The  latter  had,  since  the  middle  of  the 
century,  and  more  especially  since  1870,  gradually 
formed  innumerable  local  or  professional  societies, 
and  had  ended  by  constituting  enormous  associations 
like  the  Zentralverband  Deutscher  Industrielle  (founded 
in  1876),  which  included  about  three-quarters  of  the 
industrial  workers  of  Germany,  or  the  Bund  der 
Industrielle  (founded  in  1900),  to  which  a  certain 
number  of  industries  belonged  which  did  not  consider 
themselves  adequately  represented  in  the  Zentral- 
verband. These  colossal  organisations  and  the  great 
employers'  syndicates,  which  possessed  very  con- 
siderable power,  naturally  aimed  at  defending  the 
interests  of  German  industry  in  official  and  parlia- 
mentary circles.  And  their  influence  among  the 
various  parties  of  the  Reichstag,  and  especially  among 
the  National  Liberals,  is  such  that  the  latter  party 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  HOME   POLICY       179 

has  come  to  be  regarded,  probably  justly,  as  a  sort  of 
political  instrument  in  the  hands  of  the  great  German 
industries. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  the  political  power  of 
middle-class  Liberalism  does  not  seem  for  the  mo- 
ment to  be  very  great  in  Germany.  The  progressive 
section  has  remained  faithful  to  the  Liberal  idea, 
but  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  party  of  democratic  reform, 
it  is  menaced  by  the  rivalry  of  the  Socialistic  reformers, 
who  are  attracting  an  ever-increasing  following  among 
the  working  classes.  And  it  may  well  be  doubted 
whether  Liberalism  possesses  a  sufficiently  com- 
prehensive and  vital  basis  in  the  heart  of  the  nation 
to  enable  it  to  increase  or  even  maintain  its  power. 
As  for  the  National  Liberals,  they  have  sacrificed 
their  political  and  economic  principles  in  order  to 
follow  the  capitalistic  middle  class  they  represent. 
But  their  future  is  far  from  secure.  Whilst  the  rural 
populations  vote,  as  a  rule,  with  the  large  landed 
proprietors,  the  working  classes,  won  over  by  the 
Socialist  propaganda,  have  emancipated  themselves 
politically  from  the  tutelage  of  their  employers. 
Consequently  the  industrial  middle  class  finds  its  par- 
liamentary power  more  and  more  seriously  menaced 
every  day.  Moreover,  the  aristocracy  of  wealth  has 
for  some  time  past  been  striving  to  give  to  its  position 
in  the  State  some  stronger  basis  than  that  constituted 
by  a  political  party.  It  aims  at  exercising  a  direct 
influence  over  the  Government,  and  even  over  the 
Emperor  himself,  and  has  thus  entered  into  rivalry 
with  the  old  Conservative  and  agrarian  nobility. 

IV 

The  Conservative  Party  was,  like  the  Liberal  Party, 
founded  upon  an  ideal.      In  opposition  to  the  principle 


180    EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN   GERMANY 

of  liberty,  they  upheld  that  of  authority.  Against 
the  doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  they 
maintained  the  legitimacy  of  the  royal  power  and 
the  sacredness  of  historical  tradition.  The  political 
ideas  of  Conservatism  found  expression  in  the  theories 
of  romanticism,  of  the  historical  school,  of  Savigny 
or  of  Eichhorn,  and  above  all  during  the  reactionary 
period  in  the  doctrine  of  Stahl,  who  exercised  a  very 
considerable  influence  over  the  young  Conservatives 
of  the  day.  Against  the  Liberals  and  Democrats  the 
Conservatives  defended  the  prerogatives  of  the  King 
and  the  privileges  of  the  nobility.  In  the  face  of 
rationalistic  scepticism  they  gladly  avowed  themselves 
the  champions  of  religion,  whether  Catholic  or  Pro- 
testant, and  advocated  an  alliance  between  the  Throne 
and  the  Church.  In  opposition  to  the  believers  in 
unity  they  upheld  the  cause  of  particularism,  and 
showed  themselves,  especially  in  Prussia,  very  hostile 
to  the  absorption  of  the  small  states  by  that  great 
German  nation  which  roused  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
National  Liberals. 

But,  from  a  very  early  period,  the  Conservatives 
sheltered  behind  these  principles  exceedingly  positive 
ambitions  and  exceedingly  realistic  desires.  In  their 
capacity  as  large  landed  proprietors,  more  especially 
in  Eastern  Prussia,  they  aimed  at  preserving  their 
supremacy  in  the  rural  districts,  at  consolidating 
their  economic  power,  and  consequently  at  taking  in 
hand  the  interests  of  agriculture.  As  the  accredited 
supporters  of  the  monarchy,  the  feudalists  occupied 
a  very  important  position  in  the  army,  in  the  higher 
Civil  Service  posts,  at  Court,  and  in  the  immediate 
circle  of  the  sovereign.  This  position  they  had  every 
intention  of  maintaining,  and  thus  preserving  for 
themselves  a  practical  influence  in  the  State,  by  which 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  HOME  POLICY         181 

they  set  great  store.  Regarded  from  this  realistic 
point  of  view,  the  Conservatives  were  an  aristocratic 
body,  whose  power  depended  upon  a  fairly  large 
following  in  the  country,  consisting  of  peasants, 
members  of  the  lower  middle  class,  and  artisans.  Thev 
form  "  a  small  but  powerful  party,"  which  stoutly 
defends  its  own  economic  and  social  interests,  and 
even  to-day  possesses  an  authority,  perhaps  justified 
if  one  is  to  believe  certain  historians,  by  its  experience 
of  affairs  and  its  political  knowledge,  but  which  at 
all  events  seems  out  of  proportion  with  its  numerical 
importance,  if  not  with  its  wealth  and  talents. 

Forced  into  opposition  for  some  time  by  the  policy 
of  Bismarck,  who  had  ceased  to  share  the  prejudices 
of  his  feudal  friends  and  did  not  hesitate,  in  the 
interests  of  German  unity,  to  put  a  great  strain  upon 
the  dynastic  principle,  the  Conservative  Party  was 
at  first  hostile  to  the  new  order  of  things.  Bismarck, 
in  the  pursuit  of  his  Liberal  German  policy,  and  sup- 
ported by  the  National  Liberals,  was  opposed  by  the 
Conservatives  in  Parliament,  in  the  country,  and  at 
Court,  with  incredible  determination. 

Gradually,  however,  their  sound  common  sense 
won  the  day.  They  silenced  their  dynastic  and 
particularist  prejudices,  frankly  accepted  the  accom- 
plished fact,  and  reconciled  themselves  to  the  idea 
of  national  unity.  At  the  same  time  the  agrarian 
crisis,  which  was  beginning  to  make  its  power  felt, 
and  directly  attacked  their  interests,  induced  them 
to  seek  help  from  the  State,  and  to  demand  that 
agriculture  should  be  protected  by  a  tariff.  Bis- 
marck, on  his  side,  was  beginning  to  grow  tired  of  his 
alliance  with  the  Liberals,  and  considered  that  by 
founding  and  organising  the  new  German  Empire 
he  had  realised  the  greater  part  of  their  programme, 


182     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

and  that,  consequently,  he  had  less  need  of  their 
support.  He  became  convinced  of  the  economic 
and  financial  necessity  for  the  Empire  to  abandon 
Free  Trade  and  defend  by  a  protective  tariff  her 
agriculture,  which  was  menaced  by  the  competition 
of  new  countries,  and  her  industry,  which  was  in  the 
process  of  development. 

Under  these  circumstances  a  reconciliation  was 
cemented  between  the  Conservatives  and  the  Chan- 
cellor about  the  end  of  the  'seventies.  The  Govern- 
ment engineered  a  change  of  front,  and  looked  for  its 
majority  no  longer  among  the  Liberals,  but  in  the 
Centre  Party  and  the  feudalists.  The  "  Black 
Syndicate  "  of  the  Conservative  Parties,  backed  as  a 
rule  by  National  Liberals,  who  had  gained  in  wisdom 
and  become  a  little  more  domesticated,  formed  the 
parliamentary  basis  of  the  imperial  policy.  But 
these  defenders  of  the  Throne  preserved  a  very  in- 
dependent attitude  with  regard  to  the  sovereign,  and 
did  not  hesitate,  when  their  own  interests  were  at 
stake,  to  oppose  him,  on  occasion,  in  a  very  lively 
fashion.  The  obstinate  struggles  of  the  Agrarian 
Party  against  the  commercial  policy  of  the  Chancellor 
Caprivi,  and  against  the  canal  schemes  advocated 
by  the  Emperor,  are  well  known.  Nevertheless,  the 
Conservatives,  as  a  rule,  in  spite  of  some  outbursts 
of  discontent  and  temporary  estrangements,  rallied 
wholeheartedly  round  the  new  Empire,  and  became 
one  of  the  constant  elements  in  the  Government 
majorities. 

At  the  same  time  as  the  Conservative  Party 
abandoned  its  particularist  opposition,  it  also  under- 
went an  exceedingly  curious  modification  in  a  demo- 
cratic direction.  Under  the  system  of  universal 
suffrage  it  was  clearly  impossible  for  it  to  dispense 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   HOME   POLICY       183 

with  seeking  the  favour  of  the  masses  without  seeing 
its  own  power  rapidly  decline. 

Now  it  attempted  to  win  the  masses  by  various 
devices.  It  endeavoured  to  exploit  the  hatred  against 
the  Jews,  which  is  always  smouldering  somewhere 
in  the  country  districts  of  Germany,  and  held  out  its 
hand  to  the  anti-Semites.  It  also  tried  its  luck  with 
Christian  Socialism,  first  under  Stocker  and  Wagner, 
and  afterwards  in  a  more  radical  form  under  Nau- 
raann.  And  lastly  it  above  all  took  under  its  pro- 
tection the  cause  of  German  agriculture.  In  1893  the 
Bund  der  Landwirte  was  founded  for  the  defence  of 
the  agrarian  interests  menaced  by  Caprivi's  com- 
mercial policy,  and  this  society  at  the  end  of  the 
century  had  250,000  subscribers,  3,000  delegates,  a 
well-organised  press,  and  a  whole  army  of  agitators 
and  speakers  at  its  disposal.  This  powerful  and 
active  association  lost  no  time  in  securing  an  alto- 
gether preponderating  influence  in  the  Conservative 
Party.  It  rapidly  became  an  agrarian  party,  with 
Christian  and  anti-Semitic  tendencies,  and  a  strongly 
demagogic  bias,  little  hindered  by  any  scruples  of 
loyalty  to  the  Crown,  but  ready,  on  the  contrary,  to 
carry  on  the  most  violent  opposition  against  the 
Government  if  the  latter  showed  the  slightest  signs  of 
refusing  the  claims  it  imperatively  demanded. 

Thus  the  Conservative  Party  developed  into  the 
agricultural  party,  just  as  the  National  Liberals  had 
become  the  industrial  party.  It  tried,  more  or  less 
successfully,  to  reconcile  its  old  traditions  with  the 
new  developments  it  had  undergone.  It  endeavoured 
to  be  at  once  the  aristocratic  Court  Party  and  a 
popular  league  of  agriculturists — out  of  250,000 
members  there  are  177,000  small  proprietors  in 
the  Bund  der  Landwirte!     It  sometimes  pushed  its 


184  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

opposition  to  the  imperial  policy  to  such  lengths,  and 
especially  over  the  canal  question,  that  the  Emperor 
was  obliged  to  warn  it,  in  a  speech  he  made  in 
September  1894,  that  if  it  persisted  in  such  dema- 
gogic courses  a  complete  rupture  would  be  the  in- 
evitable result.  But  on  the  other  hand  the  right 
wing  of  the  party  reacted  vigorously  against  the 
Socialistic  tendencies  which  had  come  to  light  in 
certain  quarters,  and  which  it  considered  incom- 
patible with  the  traditional  Conservative  position  at 
Court.  Thus  the  party  oscillated  between  the  attitude 
of  docility  becoming  to  loyal  defenders  of  the  Throne, 
and  the  rebellious  behaviour  demanded  on  behalf 
of  agrarian  interests.  And  the  Conservatives — up 
to  the  present  at  all  events — have  apparently  found 
this  double  policy  a  fairly  paying  one,  as  it  allows 
them  on  the  one  hand  to  keep  their  influence  at 
Court  and  in  the  army  and  the  higher  Civil  Service, 
and  at  the  same  time  secures  their  power  over  the 
rural  populations,  whose  interests  they  defend,  and 
whose  claims  they  support. 


When  we  come  to  the  study  of  religious  thought  in 
Germany,  we  shall  examine  in  greater  detail  the 
tendencies  of  the  fourth  great  political  party — the 
Catholic  Centre.  For  the  moment  it  is  sufficient  to 
point  out  that  this  party  has  not  been  "  socialised  " 
to  the  same  extent  as  the  others.  The  tie  which 
binds  its  members  together  is  not  one  of  common 
interests,  but  has  remained  an  ideal  principle.  While 
Socialism  forms  the  party  of  the  people,  Liberalism 
that  of  the  middle  classes  and  of  industry,  and  Con- 
servativism  that  of  the  nobility  and  of  agriculture, 


THE   EMPIRE  AND   HOME   POLICY       185 

the  Centre  is  the  party  of  Catholicism.  It  has, 
properly  speaking,  no  political  and  social  programme, 
as  it  includes  members  belonging  to  the  most  varied 
social  positions — from  the  great  Catholic  nobles  of 
Silesia  to  the  industrial  population  in  the  Valley 
of  the  Rhine.  It  is  therefore  obliged  by  the  very 
force  of  circumstances,  and  in  order  to  preserve  its 
unity,  to  find  such  lines  of  policy  as  shall  more  or  less 
combine  the  various  class  interests  of  its  members. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  right  to  agree  with  Lamprecht 
in  saying  that  the  Centre  Party  includes  all  those 
who,  in  the  various  different  layers  of  society,  dis- 
approve of  the  system  of  capitalistic  enterprise  and 
aim  at  restricting  free  competition  and  at  substitut- 
ing a  united  system  based  upon  Christian  principles 
for  the  unlimited  development  of  subjectivist  indi- 
vidualism characteristic  of  the  new  era.  This  would 
explain,  for  instance,  the  great  solicitude  which 
Catholicism  has  for  centuries  shown  for  the  Fourth 
Estate,  and  its  persistent  and  time-established  efforts 
to  solve  the  social  problem  in  a  Christian  way.  But 
one  is  also  forced  to  acknowledge  that  although  the 
Catholic  Centre  condemns  in  general  terms  the  spirit 
of  free  enterprise,  it  is  yet  difficult  to  find  among  its 
representatives  any  clear  idea  as  to  what  that  Chris- 
tian society  should  be  which  would  cure  the  evils 
caused  by  the  inordinate  growth  of  subjectivism. 
It  appears  to-day  much  more  in  the  light  of  a  group 
of  clever  opportunists,  who  show  a  rare  genius  for 
defending  the  temporal  interests  of  Catholicism, 
rather  than  a  really  idealistic  party  which  is  syste- 
matically endeavouring  to  find  a  Christian  solution 
of  the  great  international,  political,  and  social  pro- 
blems of  the  moment. 


186  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

VI 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  sum  up  the  internal 
evolution  of  the  various  parties  in  Germany.  They 
were,  in  the  beginning,  international  groups  founded 
upon  abstract  principles,  such  as  equality,  liberty, 
or  authority.  Then  they  became  "  socialised,"  each 
party  including  a  certain  class  of  society  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  the  others — the  masses,  the  middle  class, 
the  nobility,  and  the  peasantry.  Lastly,  they 
developed  into  mere  syndicates  based  upon  economic 
interests — the  interests  of  the  workers,  of  industry,  and 
of  agriculture.  Of  course  this  evolution  did  not  take 
place  in  any  regular  or  uniform  way.  Socialism,  for 
instance,  was  from  the  very  beginning  founded  upon 
a  certain  social  stratum.  The  Centre,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  hardly  been  "  socialised "  at  all.  And 
none  of  the  parties  has  altogether  renounced  the 
idealistic  basis  upon  which  it  was  first  built.  But, 
generally  speaking,  this  evolution  of  parties  in  the 
direction  of  economic  realism  is  most  distinctly  un- 
deniable. 

And  the  results  of  this  are  not  always  good. 
German  historians  do  not  hesitate  to  confess  that 
the  intellectual  level  in  the  deliberative  assemblies 
was  far  higher  in  1848,  or  during  the  period  of  re- 
action, than  it  is  in  our  days.  They  remark  that 
the  debates  have  become  less  interesting  and  less 
profound,  and  that  the  democratic  "grand  style"  of 
modern  assemblies  has  yet  to  be  discovered.  They 
all  agree  that  the  output  from  the  legislative  machine 
is  mediocre,  and  they  believe  that  decadence  is  to 
be  found  throughout  the  whole  of  political  life. 
Members  attend  the  meetings  of  Parliament  less  and 
less,  and  the  intellectual  worth  of  the  delegates  of 


THE   EMPIRE   AND   HOME   POLICY       187 

universal  suffrage  grows  constantly  lower.  The 
political  influence  of  the  representative  body  of  the 
nation  is  consequently  on  the  decline. 

"  It  is  almost  impossible  to  believe,"  writes  Som- 
bart,  "  that  the  country  where  a  hundred  years  ago 
men  like  Stein,  Hardenberg,  Schon,  and  Thaer  made 
laws ;  where  during  the  'twenties  and  'thirties  a 
Nebenius,  a  Humboldt,  and  a  List  set  the  tone  ; 
where  fifty  years  ago  an  assembly  like  that  which 
met  in  St.  Paul's  Church  deliberated  over  the  des- 
tinies of  the  nation  ;  where,  only  a  generation  ago, 
a  Treitschke  and  a  Lassalle  hurled  their  thunder- 
bolts on  the  political  horizon  ;  where  scarcely  ten 
years  ago  men  like  Bennigsen,  Lasker,  Bamberger, 
Windhorst,  and  Reichensberger  crossed  swords  in 
Parliament  with  a  Bismarck — it  is  I  repeat,  almost 
impossible  to  believe  that  such  a  nation  could  have 
fallen  into  the  political  decay  in  which  we  find  our- 
selves at  the  end  of  the  century." 

What  is  the  reason  for  this  decline  in  public  life  ? 
The  first  and  foremost  is  apparently  the  evolution 
made  during  the  nineteenth  century  towards  economic 
materialism.  "  The  great  ideals,"  Sombart  con- 
tinues, "  which  still  inspired  our  fathers  and  grand- 
fathers, have  lost  their  lustre  ;  the  ideal  of  nationality 
ceased  to  be  current  coin  as  soon  as  the  new  Empire 
had  been  founded  in  a  powerful  access  of  enthusiasm. 
That  which  we  are  offered  to-day  under  the  name 
of  nationalism  is  a  feeble  copy  for  which  no  one  can 
get  up  any  lasting  warmth  of  feeling.  The  hollow 
phrase  but  poorly  conceals  the  emptiness  within. 
And  it  is  the  same  with  the  other  great  political 
ideals  for  which  our  fathers  faced  death.  Some  have 
been  realised,  and  the  vanity  of  others  has  been 
recognised.     The    rising    generation    only    gives    a 


188  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

superior  smile  when  the  struggles  for  political  liberty 
are  mentioned,  and  the  festivals  in  honour  of  times 
of  great  enthusiasm  are  grotesque  farces.  But  the 
new  political  ideal  has  not  yet  come  into  being. 
The  incredible  poverty  of  our  times  in  the  domain 
of  idealism  is  revealed  by  the  remarkable  fact  that 
the  so-called  revolutionary  party  of  the  present — the 
Social  Democratic  Party — gets  all  the  equipment  of 
political  formulae  it  requires  from  the  arsenal  of  the 
old  Liberal  Parties.  To  this  day  nothing  better,  in 
fact,  nothing  else,  has  been  offered  to  the  people 
than  the  battle-cry  which  was  re-echoed  on  the  day 
the  Bastille  was  taken  by  assault :  '  Liberty,  Equality, 
Fraternity  !  '  " 

Discussions  on  questions  of  interest  have  taken  the 
place  of  political  debates  ;  and  an  opportunist  in- 
difference to  all  principle  has  become  prevalent  in 
Parliament.  Men  of  ideas,  who  are  not  so  well 
endowed  for  economic  and  political  bargaining,  have 
been  gradually  ousted  from  the  assemblies.  Legis- 
lation and  administration  have  been  handed  over  to 
specialists,  who  fulfil  these  difficult  duties  like  expert 
operators,  with  as  much  skill  and  as  little  trouble 
as  possible.  Hence  that  decadence  in  political  life 
which  numbers  of  German  historians  deplore  so  much 
at  the  present  moment. 

In  the  presence  of  the  decline  in  the  influence  of 
Parliament,  it  is  natural  that  the  power  of  the  Crown 
should  have  preserved  a  considerable  prestige  in  the 
Germany  of  to-day.  This  is  due  in  the  first  place  to 
the  fact  that  loyalty  to  the  dynasty  and  respect  for 
authority  are  sentiments  which  are  deeply  engraved 
upon  the  German  mind,  and  have  preserved  their 
strength  even  in  our  democratic  age  ;  and  secondly 
because    Germany    has    hitherto    had    at    her   head 


THE  EMPIRE  AND  HOME  POLICY       189 

princes  who  were  in  some  way  or  other  remarkable, 
who  were  filled  with  a  lofty  consciousness  of  their 
mission,  and  derived  from  a  deep  and  sincere  belief 
in  monarchy  the  energy  and  authority  necessary  to 
impose  their  sovereign  will  ;  and  lastly  and  chiefly 
because  the  Emperor,  who  is  the  heir  of  the  "  tribu- 
nician  mission "  of  the  Hohenzollerns,  is  still  the 
arbitrator  between  the  parties  and  the  classes  who 
struggle  for  power.  It  is  before  the  Emperor  that, 
in  the  last  resort,  the  interests  of  the  various  great 
powers  that  come  into  conflict  in  modern  Germany 
are  fought  out — from  the  feudal  nobility  and  the 
capitalist  middle  classes  to  the  lowest  strata  of  the 
working  proletariat.  It  is  the  person  of  the  Emperor 
that  the  two  aristocracies  who  are  struggling  for 
supremacy — the  aristocracy  of  birth  and  landed  pro- 
perty, and  the  aristocracy  of  industry  and  finance — 
are  trying  to  win  over  to  their  cause.  And  it  is  the 
rivalry  between  these  two  parties  which  has  to  a 
large  extent  contributed  towards  consolidating  the 
power  of  the  Emperor  and  maintaining  the  authority 
he  enjoys  to-day. 

Will  the  Emperor  be  able  to  play  this  part  much 
longer  ?  Will  he  be  capable  of  remaining  the 
sovereign  of  the  whole  nation,  and  escape  becoming 
the  prisoner  of  one  party  or  one  privileged  group  ? 
There  is  no  doubt  that  a  fairly  large  section  of  public 
opinion  in  Germany  is  beginning  to  show  signs  of 
growing  tired  of  it,  and  is  raising  ever  louder  pro- 
testations against  the  system  of  personal  govern- 
ment, the  instability  of  the  "  new  system,"  and  the 
abuses  which  spring  from  it.  But  it  is  difficult  to 
say  how  much  weight  these  complaints  will  have,  and 
to  what  extent  they  are  indications  that  Germany 
is  progressing  towards  a  more  democratic  system. 


190  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

It  is  sufficient  at  present  to  say  that  the  royal 
power  does  not  yet  seem  to  be  seriously  menaced. 
It  can  rely  absolutely  upon  its  two  chief  weapons — 
the  Civil  Service  and  the  Army.  And  the  last  elec- 
tions have  once  again  proved  the  popularity  it  enjoys 
among  the  masses.  The  defeat  of  the  Socialists,  who 
represented  the  decided  opposition  to  the  system  of 
personal  rule,  the  success  of  all  the  parties  of  the 
Right,  from  the  Conservatives  and  the  National 
Liberals  to  the  anti-Semites,  and  the  victory  gained 
by  the  Government,  which  from  that  moment  ceased 
to  be  at  the  mercy  of  a  coalition  between  the  Social- 
ists and  the  Centre,  and  found  its  national  and 
universal  policy  highly  approved  by  the  voice  of 
general  suffrage,  are  so  many  signs  that  the  country, 
as  a  whole,  is  not  seriously  discontented  with  the 
actual  state  of  affairs,  and  that  no  radical  change  in 
the  direction  of  the  internal  policy  of  Germany  is 
to  be  expected  for  the  time  being.  The  Emperor  has 
been  justified  in  showing  his  satisfaction  at  seeing 
the  great  majority  of  the  country  giving  its  entire 
adhesion  to  his  imperialistic  policy.  And  the  people 
loudly  applauded  the  speech  in  which  he  borrowed 
a  metaphor  from  Bismarck,  and  compared  Germany 
to  a  good  rider  who  could  not  only  sit  firm  in  his 
saddle,  but  was  able  by  the  fury  of  his  gallop  to 
"  sweep  aside  "  all  the  adversaries  who  tried  to  bar 
his  path. 


CHAPTER    VI 

MODERN   POLITICAL   IDEALISM 

r&Jl      \ 

It  only  remains  for  us  to  end  our  study  of  political 
Germany  by  pointing  out  certain  symptoms  which 
various  observers  interpret  as  indications  of  a  pro- 
found change  which  is  being  prepared  in  the  very 
depths  of  the  nation's  soul. 

I  have  hitherto  described  the  evolution  of  Germany 
as  essentially  a  struggle  for  material  power  in  every 
shape  and  form,  and  as  a  triumph  of  the  principle 
of  imperialism.  But  it  also  seems  to  have  been  a 
struggle  for  a  higher  and  more  complete  national 
culture.  In  fact,  it  is  clear  that  if  in  the  eighteenth 
century  the  State  considered  its  chief  task  was  to 
organise  its  offensive  and  defensive  forces,  to  insure 
an  increase  in  its  population  and  its  wealth,  and  to 
guard  the  security  and  material  well-being  of  its 
subjects,  the  idea  of  the  functions  of  the  State  was 
widened  during  the  nineteenth  century.  From  the 
beginning  of  that  century  German  idealism,  under 
the  influence  of  Fichte  and  Hegel,  saw  in  it  "  the 
realisation  of  the  moral  idea  in  an  institution,"  and 
the  organism  by  means  of  which  a  nation  raised 
itself  to  its  highest  attainments.  And  this  belief  has 
never  ceased  since  that  time  to  develop  and  grow 
stronger. 

191 


192  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

This  has  brought  two  great  results  in  its  train. 
On  the  one  hand  the  State  has  gradually  usurped 
the  place  of  the  Church  in  the  task  of  organising 
and  controlling  instruction,  and  it  has  at  the  same 
time  developed  educational  facilities  of  all  kinds  to 
enormous  proportions.  And  on  the  other  hand  the 
nation  thus  organised  has  become  more  and  more 
conscious  of  its  responsibility  towards  all  its  members. 
It  has  learnt  to  feel  that  it  is  its  duty  to  preserve  its 
human  capital,  and  especially  to  protect  the  humble 
and  the  weak,  to  defend  them  against  a  demoralising 
and  depressing  exploitation,  to  sustain  them  in 
times  of  crisis,  and  to  ensure  them  against  the  danger 
of  invalidity.  Thus  the  progress  of  public  education 
and  the  organisation  of  social  insurance  take  the  first 
place  among  the  functions  of  the  State  in  Germany. 

In  the  first  place,  the  State  has  been  gradually 
secularising  education.  It  has  destroyed  in  this 
department  the  supremacy  of  the  Church,  which  in 
the  Middle  Ages  was  the  only  channel  of  culture. 
From  the  end  of  the  Middle  Ages  the  universities 
began  to  fall  under  State  control.  Then  after  the 
Reformation  a  similar  fate  befell  the  institutions  for 
secondary  education.  Lastly,  in  the  eighteenth  and 
nineteenth  centuries  came  the  turn  of  the  elementary 
schools.  And  at  the  same  time  as  the  State  took  in 
hand  the  organisation  of  education,  it  also  changed  the 
very  nature  of  the  instruction  given. 

Formerly  the  principal  mission  of  the  universities 
and  the  Latin  schools  had  been  the  training  of  priests 
and  theologians,  and  the  task  of  the  elementary 
schools  had  been  to  spread  among  the  people  the 
elements  of  religious  faith  and  prepare  the  children 
to  follow  the  Sunday  sermon  later  on.  Now  these 
educational  establishments  were  gradually  stripped  of 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        193 

their  ecclesiastical  character.  The  universities  be- 
came scientific  institutions,  and  the  chief  place  in 
them  to-day  is  no  longer  occupied  as  it  once  was  by 
theologians,  or  even,  as  was  the  case  at  the  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  by  philosophers  or  philolo- 
gists, but  by  men  of  science  and  doctors  of  medicine. 
The  German  public  school,  a  type  of  institution  which 
came  into  being  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  has  no  longer  anything  ecclesiastical  about 
it  either.  It  is  entirely  impregnated  by  that  classical 
and  neo-Hellenic  spirit  which  spread  about  that 
time  throughout  Germany,  and  it  dispenses  an  en- 
cyclopaedic instruction,  including  philology  and 
history,  mathematics  and  natural  science.  And 
lastly  the  schools  in  their  turn  have  detached  them- 
selves from  the  Church,  and  under  the  impulse  given 
by  Pestalozzi,  consciously  strive  to  stimulate  their 
pupils  to  spontaneity  and  activity,  and  to  develop 
in  them,  in  accordance  with  the  ethical  doctrines 
of  Kant,  the  belief  in  free  autonomous  personality. 
And  if,  even  as  late  as  about  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  popular  instruction  maintained 
a  strictly  denominational  character,  especially  in 
Catholic  districts,  the  elementary  schools  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  tended  more  and  more,  owing  to  the 
importance  ascribed  to  the  teaching  of  the  German 
language  and  German  history,  to  become  national 
schools,  in  which  the  cult  of  the  Fatherland  was  in- 
culcated upon  the  minds  of  the  children  like  a  second 
religion. 

Nevertheless,  the  Church  still  possesses,  even  to-day, 
a  fairly  important  influence  in  Germany,  especially 
in  the  domain  of  elementary  education.  The  schools 
have  as  a  rule  remained  denominational,  and  con- 
tinue to  give  dogmatic  instruction — although  it  is 
13 


i  ? 


194  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

somewhat  paradoxical  to  see  Catholic,  Lutheran,  and 
dissenting  establishments  teaching,  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  State,  absolutely  contradictory  religious 
truths.  They  are  even  subjected,  in  many  cases, 
to  ecclesiastical  inspection.  It  is,  indeed,  asserted 
that  more  and  more  numerous  protestations  are  being 
raised  against  this  condition  of  things.  Those  who 
object  complain  of  being  forced  to  see  their  children 
taught  doctrines  which  are  contrary  to  their  own 
faith  or  to  their  scientific  beliefs.  In  the  teaching 
body,  above  all,  many  masters  protest  against  being 
obliged  to  give  religious  instruction  in  accordance  with 
the  tenets  of  a  creed  which  is  at  variance  with  their 
own  deepest  convictions.  An  important  section  of 
public  opinion  demands  the  immediate  institution  of 
Simultanschulen  which  shall  include  pupils  of  every 
denomination.  Nevertheless,  Germany  does  not  for 
the  moment  seem  disposed  to  "  dechristianise  "  the 
schools.  Even  free-thinkers,  who  are  not  subject  to 
any  denominational  narrowness,  regard  the  radical 
secularisation  of  education  in  Germany  as  neither 
possible  nor  even  desirable.  They  are  convinced 
that  if  ever  the  schools  become  "  atheistic,"  a  large 
part  of  the  population  of  the  Empire,  among  the 
Catholics  especially,  will  leave  the  State  schools 
and  organise  private  schools  in  which  the  children 
will  receive  the  religious  instruction  their  parents 
regard  as  indispensable.  And,  moreover,  many  Ger- 
mans do  not  consider  the  "  neutral "  school  of  the 
French  type  as  by  any  means  a  model  to  be 
copied.  Paulsen,  one  of  the  most  influential  and 
highly  esteemed  historians  of  education  in  Germany, 
is  of  the  opinion  that  although  Catholic  France 
was  obliged  to  institute  a  secular  and  neutral  school 
system  for  education  to  be  made  national,  this  neces- 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        195 

sity  fortunately  does  not  exist  in  the  case  of  Germans. 
The  very  circumstances  of  their  religious  history  have 
made  them  accustomed  to  reconcile  science  and  re- 
ligion, knowledge  and  faith  ;  they  have  in  the  Bible  a 
peerless  instrument  of  moral  culture,  which  the  finest 
"  chosen  extracts  from  the  literature  of  the  world  " 
could  not  replace.  There  is  consequently  nothing  to 
prevent  the  teachers  "  from  keeping  religious  instruc- 
tion and  the  Bible  in  their  hands,"  and  from  moulding 
the  minds  of  German  children  by  teaching  them  the 
elements  of  a  historic  and  interdenominational  Chris- 
tianity, shorn  of  its  dogmatic  character,  and  reduced 
to  its  moral  principles.  And  I  should  not  be  sur- 
prised if  these  conciliatory  views  of  Paulsen  were 
more  in  harmony  with  the  general  opinion  of  the 
country  than  the  more  radical  doctrine  which  would 
banish  all  religious  instruction  from  the  schools. 

At  the  same  time  as  public  instruction  emancipated 
itself  from  the  Church,  it  also  became  more  demo- 
cratic. 

Education  had  from  the  beginning  been  the  privi- 
lege of  a  caste.  There  had  first  of  all  existed  in  Ger- 
many  in  the  Middle  Ages  a  clerical  culture ;  this  was 
followed  by  a  worldly  and  aristocratic  culture,  from 
the  Renaissance  to  the  eighteenth  century,  and  lastly 
by  a  middle-class  culture,  when,  with  the  diffusion  of 
rationalism  and  neo-Hellenism,  the  middle  classes  of 
Germany  took  the  lead  in  the  intellectual  movement. 
During  the  nineteenth  century  a  gradual  approach  was 
made  to  the  national  culture  preached  by  Fichte  in 
his  Discourses  to  the  German  Nation. 

The  barriers  between  the  various  kinds  of  instruc- 
tion were  gradually  lowered.  Latin  ceased  to  be  the 
language  necessary  for  all  high  culture,  and  the 
grammar  school  lost  more  and  more  of  its  character 


196  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

as  a  "  Latin  school  "  of  the  old  order.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  progress  made  by  the  elementary  schools 
brought  them  constantly  nearer  to  the  level  of  the 
secondary  schools,  and  the  distinction  between  the 
masters  who  had  been  trained  in  the  seminaries 
(Seminarisch  gebildet)  and  those  who  had  received  a 
university  education  (Akademisch  gebildet)  gradually 
grew  less  and  less.  But  above  all  education  in  every 
rank  assumed  an  ever  more  realistic  and  practical 
character.  The  culture  of  the  higher  classes  of  society 
was  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  chiefly 
aesthetic  and  literary,  and  the  classical  education  of 
the  public  school  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  was  of  a  similar  nature.  But  we  have  already 
seen  the  evolution  towards  realism,  which  took  place 
among  the  educated  classes  in  consequence  of  the 
development  of  the  system  of  enterprise.  This  evo- 
lution was  very  naturally  reflected  in  the  domain  of 
learning.  Instruction  in  all  ranks  became  less 
exclusively  literary  or  philosophical,  less  confined  to 
books.  In  addition  to  the  classical  public  school, 
there  came  into  being  the  more  modern  type  of 
polytechnic  and  of  technical  and  commercial  schools 
(Realgymnasium,  Oberrealschule,  Realschule,  Reform- 
gymnasium),  which,  by  increasing  the  attention  paid 
to  the  teaching  of  science  and  living  languages,  cor- 
responded better  with  the  needs  of  the  middle  classes 
engaged  in  trade  and  commerce.  Side  by  side 
with  the  universities,  technical  institutes  (Technische 
Hochschulen)  everywhere  sprang  up  and  grew  more 
flourishing,  and  were  held  in  higher  esteem  every  day. 
And  thus  the  old  distinction  which  separated  the 
classical  and  philological  "  man  of  letters  "  of  the  past 
from  the  "  unlettered  "  man  who  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  classical  languages,  tended  gradually  to  dis- 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        197  * 

C 
appear.     Thus  the  idea  of  a  specifically  aesthetic  and 

philological    culture    reserved    for    the    intellectual 

elite    alone,   little  by  little  gave  way  to  the   more 

democratic    conception    of    a   universal    culture,    an 

infinitely  complex  and  differentiated  one  it  is  true, 

which    nobody    was    expected   to   assimilate   in    its 

entirety,  and  which  was  not  the  same  for  all,  but  of 

which  each  individual  was  at  liberty  to  appropriate 

whatever  he  could,  according  to  the  measure  of  his 

intellectual  or  physical  abilities. 

In  short,  Germany,  during  the  course  of  the  last 
century,  worked  with  untiring  energy  to  dispense 
instruction  with  an  ever  more  liberal  hand  to  all  her 
children.  It  is  true  that  her  enthusiasm  for  the  task 
of  education  had  many  ups  and  downs.  It  was 
exceedingly  intense  during  the  first  thirty  years  of  the 
century,  when  the  foundations  for  the  reorganisation 
of  public  instruction  from  the  elementary  schools  to 
the  universities  were  laid.  It  cooled  down  in  an 
extraordinary  way  in  the  course  of  the  second  forty 
years  of  the  century,  when,  during  the  revolutionary 
and  reactionary  era  between  1830  and  1870,  the 
various  governments  showed  themselves  suspicious 
even  to  the  point  of  hostility  with  regard  to  the  task 
of  public  education.  But  it  was  rekindled  once  more 
after  the  great  military  triumphs  of  Prussia  and  the 
restoration  of  the  Empire.  It  is  regarded  as  an 
axiom  that  it  was  the  German  teacher  who  really  won 
Sadowa  and  Sedan,  and  that  the  victories  of  Germany 
are  essentially  due  to  the  superiority  of  her  culture. 

But  it  cannot  be  denied  that  doubts  are  again  be- 
ginning to  be  felt  to-day  with  regard  to  the  efficacious 
virtue  of  education.  In  university  circles  it  is  possible 
to  discover  symptoms  of  fatigue  here  and  there,  and 
a  state  of  mind  similar  to  that  which  drove  certain 


198  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 


'  thinkers  in  France  to  proclaim  "  the  bankruptcy  of 
science."     The  melancholy  observation  is  made  that 


,  <*>  . 


science,  from  which  some  complete  conception  of  the 
universe  was  expected,  and  a  general  guidance  to  direct 
the  will  of  man,  never  results  in  any  definite  or 
absolute  truths,  but  only  gives  partial  and  pro- 
visional solutions,  which  are  always  open  to  revision 
and  correction.  Many  a  man  feels  himself  weighed 
down  by  the  enormous  mass  of  knowledge  which  must 
be  assimilated  by  any  one  who  wants  to  be  "  up  to 
date  ''  in  any  particular  branch  of  science,  and  is 
also  not  a  little  discouraged  by  the  state  of  perpetual 
development  and  by  the  endless  evolution  into  which 
science  is  always  plunged. 

In  the  ruling  class  and  in  certain  middle-class 
circles  also,  the  pessimistic  tendencies  which  were 
prevalent  about  the  middle  of  the  century  occasionally 
reappear  to-day.  Men  are  beginning  to  wonder 
whether  the  task  of  popular  instruction  has  not 
been  carried  to  inordinate  lengths — whether,  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  nation,  education  is  not 
more  a  source  of  danger  than  of  benefit,  and  whether 
people  are  not  infinitely  more  difficult  to  govern 
when  they  are  half-educated.  The  anxiety  caused 
by  the  recent  progress  of  Socialism  may  have  helped 
to  spread  these  doubts  in  circles  which,  only  a  short 
time  ago,  would  never  for  a  moment  have  enter- 
tained them,  but  really  believed  that  the  State  had 
no  more  pressing  duty  than  to  give  education  on  a 
liberal  scale  to  all  its  subjects. 

Nevertheless,  generally  speaking,  the  average 
opinion  is,  in  the  words  of  Paulsen,  that  "  in  the 
universal  struggle  for  power  and  pre-eminence, 
the  superiority  will  rest  with  those  nations  who 
have  succeeded  best  in  securing  for  their  children 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        199 

a^solid  education  and  culture  by  means  of  well- 
equipped  schools,  and  by  the  formation  of  economi- 
cally prosperous  and  morally  healthy  families." 
The  successes  attained  by  Germany  are  attributed 
to  the  fact  that  she  forestalled  other  countries  by 
starting  compulsory  education  early  in  the  day, 
and  by  applying  her  mind  to  training  excellent 
teachers  for  every  branch  of  instruction.  And 
the  conclusion  is  drawn  that  the  ignorance  of  the  . 
masses  can  never  be  a  guarantee  of  order  and 
stability  in  the  State,  that  the  obvious  interests 
of  the  monarchy  demand  an  ever  wider  diffusion 
of  knowledge,  and  that  the  future  belongs  to  those 
nations  who  have  solved  the  problem  of  national 
education  most  successfully. 


II 

At  the  same  time  as  it  pursues  an  ideal  of  national 
culture,  the  German  State  also  forms  a  clearer 
conception  of  the  social  mission  it  is  called  upon 
to  fulfil. 

And,  indeed,  the  development  of  the  system  of 
free  enterprise  puts  the  social  question  into  an 
absolutely  new  form.  All  the  relationships  of 
personal  dependence  which  formerly  existed  between 
the  employer  and  his  men,  between  the  lord  and 
his  peasants,  the  master  and  his  journeymen  and 
apprentices,  disappeared  during  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. The  labourer  no  longer  owes  his  time,  or  part 
of  his  time,  as  he  once  did,  to  a  master  to  whom 
he  is  personally  subjected.  In  this  respect  he  is  freed 
from  any  sort  of  obligation.  He  is  at  liberty  to 
sell  his  labour  under  the  best  possible  conditions, 
and  no  one  can  force  him  to  accept  a  contract  for 


200  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

work  which  he  considers  unfair  or  merely  disad- 
vantageous. But  the  worker,  in  breaking  the  per- 
sonal bonds  which  united  him  to  his  master,  also 
at  the  same  time  lost  the  right  of  being  protected 
by  him.  The  modern  capitalist  who  purchases 
labour  has  the  right  to  secure  this  commodity  on  the 
conditions  most  advantageous  to  himself,  and  without 
having  to  worry  his  head  about  ensuring  a  com- 
petency for  those  he  employs  when  he  does  not 
need  their  services  any  longer. 

Theoretically,  the  "  liberty  "  of  the  worker  and 
that  of  the  employer  are  supposed  to  balance  each 
other.  The  one  is  free  not  to  sell  his  labour  under 
unfavourable  conditions ;  the  other,  on  his  side, 
is  free  not  to  buy  the  labour  for  which  too  high  a 
price  is  asked.  Thus  by  the  normal  interplay  of 
supply  and  demand  the  just  price  of  labour  should 
be  established  in  a  natural  way. 

But  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  extreme  precariousness 
of  labour  under  the  system  of  free  enterprise  is  well 
known.  It  is  in  the  first  place  exposed  without 
any  protection  to  all  kinds  of  risks — illness,  accident, 
old  age,  and  unemployment — which  are  constantly 
weighing  down  the  life  of  the  working  man.  And, 
moreover,  it  is  clear  that  he  is  very  far  from  being 
in  a  position,  as  a  rule,  to  contest  the  conditions  of 
his  contract  with  his  employer  "  freely."  He  is, 
in  the  last  resort,  obliged  to  sell  his  labour  under 
pain  of  dying  of  hunger.  And  he  therefore  con- 
stantly runs  the  risk  of  having  disastrous  terms 
dictated  to  him  by  an  unscrupulous  employer  who 
is  ready  to  speculate  on  his  need.  A  great  problem 
is  thus  presented  to  modern  society.  It  has  become 
imperative  to  organise  upon  a  new  basis  the  pro- 
tection afforded  to  workers,  which  under  the  patri- 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        201 

archal  system,  was  provided  by  the  lord  or  the 
employer.  It  was  necessary  to  find  a  remedy  for 
the  condition  of  the  labourer  by  the  development 
of  workmen's  insurance  schemes,  and  by  instituting 
normal  relationships  between  an  employer  and  his 
men.  The  maintenance  of  public  health  and  national 
strength  and  the  preservation  of  social  peace  de- 
pended upon  the  solution  found  for  this  problem. 

German  public  opinion  soon  recognised  the  evils 
produced  by  the  system  of  free  enterprise,  and 
realised  the  necessity  of  fighting  them.  As  early 
as  the  'forties  there  was  founded  in  Berlin  an  Asso- 
ciation for  the  Improvement  of  the  Condition  of 
Labourers  and  Artisans,  which  was  recruited  chiefly 
from  the  ranks  of  those  engaged  in  enterprise,  and 
received  a  large  donation  from  the  King  of  Prussia, 
Frederick  William  IV.,  himself.  About  the  same 
time  the  first  signs  of  Christian  Socialism  began  to 
appear.  Men  like  Wichern,  the  founder  of  the 
Home  Mission,  on  the  Protestant  side,  and  the  priest 
Kettler  on  the  Catholic  side,  drove  the  Church  to 
descend  into  the  region  of  practical  acts,  and  preached 
the  fundamental  application  of  Christian  morality 
to  social  life.  Then  the  political  economists  in  their 
turn  came  upon  the  scene,  and  in  the  name  of  science 
rose  up  against  the  gospel  of  unrestricted  competition 
and  the  doctrines  of  Adam  Smith  and  the  Manchester 
School.  During  the  'forties  the  trend  of  thought 
afterwards  known  as  "  Pulpit  Socialism  "  came  into 
being,  and  resulted  in  1872  in  the  foundation  of 
the  Social  Policy  Association,  whose  principal  mem- 
bers were  scientific  men  like  Brentano  and  Nasse, 
Schmoller  and  Schcenberg. 

Thus,  whilst  the  Socialists  looked  for  the  cure  of 
all  the  evils  from  which  the  masses  were  suffering 


202     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

to  the  conquest  of  power  by  the  democracy  and  a 
radical  upheaval  of  the  social  order,  a  constantly 
growing  group,  consisting  of  members  of  the  capi- 
talist middle  classes,  Protestant  and  Catholic 
Christians,  and  political  economists,  supported,  on 
their  side,  a  gradual  reform  of  the  obvious  and  un- 
deniable abuses  of  the  capitalistic  system.  Among 
these  reformers  some  saw  in  the  Church  and  Christian 
principles  the  chief  power  capable  of  regenerating 
modern  society.  Others  preferred  to  pin  their  faith 
upon  the  State  to  put  an  end  to  the  oppression  and 
degradation  of  the  lower  classes.  The  part  the 
latter  played  in  the  evolution  of  Germany  is  very 
important.  The  Prussian  State,  and  afterwards 
the  German  Empire,  as  we  shall  see,  has  to  a  large 
extent  adopted  their  programme  and  gone  far  enough 
along  the  path  of  State  Socialism. 

But  it  must  also  be  admitted  that,  although  the 
Government  has  given  at  least  partial  satisfaction 
to  certain  Socialist  demands,  it  remains  invariably 
hostile  to  the  tendencies  of  the  Democratic  Socialist 
Party.  It  is  true  that  it  is  perfectly  conscious  of 
the  duties  it  owes  to  the  working  classes.  Bismarck, 
for  instance,  declared  in  the  Reichstag  that  he 
accepted,  without  hesitation,  the  Socialistic  doctrine 
of  the  right  to  work.  He  found  this  idea  in  embryo 
in  the  federal  legislation.  One  of  the  principles  of 
the  Prussian  Landrecht  was  that  it  was  unlawful  for 
any  one  in  the  kingdom  to  be  reduced  to  death  by 
starvation.  There  was,  consequently,  no  reason  why 
the  modern  German  Empire  should  refuse  workers 
the  protection  which  had  been  afforded  them  by  the 
old  Prussian  monarchy.  On  the  contrary,  stern 
duty  called  it  to  take  an  interest  in  their  fate  and 
to  bind  them  to  it  by  material  benefits.     On  the 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        203 

other  hand,  however,  the  Government  would  not 
on  any  account  tolerate  the  social  upheaval  of 
which  the  followers  of  Marx  dreamt.  It  opposed 
every  effort  on  the  part  of  the  democracy  and  its 
adherents  to  take  in  hand  the  direction  of  public 
affairs,  and  defended  the  prerogatives  of  the  Crown 
against  them  with  the  greatest  energy.  It  vigorously 
opposed  all  revolutionary  or  even  merely  republican 
tendencies.  In  short,  the  German  State  was  by  no 
means  in  subjection  to  the  capitalist  middle  classes, 
but  meant  to  play  the  part  of  a  loyal  arbitrator 
between  employers  and  employed.  But  if  it  was 
determined  to  put  a  curb  upon  the  absolute  power 
of  the  masters,  it  did  not,  on  the  other  hand,  tolerate 
any  attempts  on  the  part  of  the  workers  to  bring 
pressure  to  bear  upon  it  or  to  dictate  their  own 
terms. 

The  workers,  on  their  side,  had  but  a  very  limited 
confidence  in  the  feudalistic,  capitalist,  and  middle- 
class  State,  and  they  were  impatient  of  being  held 
in  tutelage  by  it.  They  suspected  it  of  partiality 
and  weakness  towards  employers,  and  regarded  it 
less  as  a  just  arbitrator  than  as  an  ally  of  their 
adversaries.  Just  as  there  existed  in  the  heart 
of  the  Government  a  mixture  of  sympathy  and 
suspicion  with  regard  to  the  working  classes,  there 
was  noticeable  among  thfc  workers  a  deep-seated 
mistrust  of  the  capitalistic  State.  And  it  was  not 
astonishing  if,  under  these  circumstances,  the  work 
of  social  reform  advanced  with  a  somewhat  uneven 
and  capricious  pace. 

Until  the  end  of  the  'seventies,  and  as  long  as 
Bismarck  relied  chiefly  upon  the  National  Liberals 
for  support,  his  economic  policy  was,  very  naturally, 
also    "  Liberal."     The   State  did   not,  so   to    speak, 


204     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

intervene  in  order  to  restrict  free  competition.  The 
Chancellor,  it  is  true,  felt  "  that  there  was  much  to 
be  done  for  the  working  man,"  and  he  endeavoured 
to  get  enlightenment  with  regard  to  the  social 
question  from  all  quarters,  and  drew  his  information 
as  much  from  Wagener,  the  sociologist  of  the  parties 
of  the  Right,  as  from  Lassalle,  Rodbertus,  and 
Duhring,  or  the  Pulpit  Socialists.  But  for  the 
time  being  he  limited  all  positive  action  to  a  few 
discreet  attempts  to  organise  co-operative  schemes 
of  production,  and  to  a  few  measures  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  working  man,  which  were  of  no  great 
significance  or  any  real  effective  power. 

But  in  1878,  after  the  attempts  made  by  Hcedel 
and  Nobiling  upon  the  life  of  the  Emperor  William, 
Bismarck  took  in  hand  the  task  of  fighting  the 
dangerous  progress  of  the  Socialist  Party  by  means 
of  drastic  measures,  and  applied  his  mind  to  the 
severe  repression  of  the  impetus  towards  emancipa- 
tion which  was  beginning  to  manifest  itself  among 
the  masses.  And,  moreover,  he  also  inaugurated 
at  precisely  the  same  moment  a  social  policy  of 
a  perfectly  fresh  kind.  In  short,  he  completely 
realised  that  the  solution  of  the  social  question 
required  something  more  than  coercion,  and  that 
positive  benefits  were  needed.  And  it  was  for  this 
reason  that  at  the  same  time  as  he  suppressed 
"  Socialist  excesses  "  with  the  severity  which  is 
familiar  to  all,  he  also  endeavoured  to  "  improve 
the  condition  of  the  working  man  by  substantial 
concessions."  He  perceived  quite  clearly  the  grave 
evils  which  unrestricted  competition  entailed  for  the 
masses,  and  he  considered  that  the  State  ought  to 
give  such  help  and  protection  to  the  workers  as  it 
could  safely  do  without  injuring  the  great  industries 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        205 

or  placing  too  heavy  a  burden  upon  them.  '  We 
wish  to  create  the  greatest  possible  contentment," 
said  the  Chancellor.  And  to  this  he  added,  with 
an  eye  to  the  eventuality  which  might  necessitate 
a  bloody  suppression  of  revolutionary  intrigues  : 
"  I  say  this  in  case  we  have  to  come  to  blows." 

From  this  moment  an_era  of  social  reform  was  in- 
augurated for  Germany.  Bismarck  now  relied  chiefly 
upon  the  Conservatives,  who  for  a  long  time  past 
had  shown  a  disposition  to  criticise  the  industrialism 
of  the  towns,  and  were  quite  ready  to  support  a 
policy  which  set  itself  the  task  of  destroying  the 
abuses  of  the  capitalistic  system.  He  was,  more- 
over, supported  in  this  object  by  the  Catholic  Party, 
who,  ever  since  the  middle  of  the  century,  had  felt 
the  necessity  of  reforming  society  in  accordance 
with  the  principles  of  Christian  morality.  With  the 
help  of  this  majority,  which  was  increased  by  the 
adherence  of  a  few  powerful  industrialists,  like  Baron 
von  Stumm,  who  wished  for  the  re-establishment  of 
patriarchal  relations  between  masters  and  men,  the 
Chancellor  undertook  the  task  of  laying  the  founda- 
tions of  the  great  scheme  of  workmen's  protection 
with  which  he  desired  to  endow  the  country.  And 
after  years  of  struggle  he  succeeded  at  last  in  securing 
the  triumph  of  his  ideas.  Under  his  initiative,  and 
thanks  to  his  tenacious  will,  the  great  laws  of  social 
insurance  of  which  Germany  is  justly  proud  to-day 
— insurance  against  sickness  and  against  accident, 
invalidity  and  old  age  pensions — were  drawn  up  and 
forced  upon  the  acceptance  of  the  Emperor,  the 
Federal  Council,  and  Parliament.  It  is  true  that 
from  the  lack  of  sufficient  resources  he  was  not  able 
to  carry  out  the  work  on  as  ample  a  scale  as  he  had 
intended.     He  was  refused  a  monopoly  in  tobacco, 


206  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

which  would  have  formed  the  "  patrimony  of  the 
disinherited,"  and  would  have  allowed  him  to  dis- 
pense succour  and  pensions  to  the  masses  of  Germany 
with  a  less  niggardly  hand.  But  even  as  it  is,  and 
in  spite  of  its  imperfections,  the  system  of  workmen's 
insurance  in  Germany  is  an  exceedingly  impressive 
monument,  and  forms  one  of  the  most  lasting  titles 
to  glory  of  the  great  Chancellor. 

Thus  the  German  workman  found  himself  insured 
against  some  of  the  greatest  risks  which  the  develop- 
ment of  the  system  of  capitalistic  enterprise  brought 
in  its  train.     On  the  other  hand,   hardly  anything 
had  been  accomplished  in  the  direction  of  protecting 
labour.     The  right  of  forming  societies  and  the  right 
to  go  out  on  strike  were  badly  secured.     Women  and 
children,  in  the  absence  of  sufficient  regulations  for 
work,   were  exposed  to  the  most  ruthless  exploita- 
tion.    Arbitration  was  not  regularly  organised.     The 
inspection  of  work  remained  almost  an  illusion,  owing 
to  the  limited  number  of  inspectors  and  the  inefficacy 
of  the  control  they  were  allowed  to  exercise.    Nothing 
was  done  to  improve  this   state  of  things.     Every 
scheme  of  reform  came  up  against  the  passive  resist- 
ance of  Bismarck.     In  fact,  the  Chancellor  did  not 
wish   to   enter  upon  this   path   systematically.     He 
admitted  that  the  insurance  laws,  by  bringing  into 
being  a  host  of  people  with  small  independent  means, 
put   the   working  classes   under   the  protection   and 
in  the  power  of  the  State.     He  hoped,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  attach  the  class  of  contractors  to  his  cause 
by  refraining  from  passing  too  rigorous  measures  for 
the  protection  of  labour,  and  by  thus  leaving  the 
former  free  to  organise  industrial  work  to  the   best 
advantage  for  themselves.     Thus  the  employers  and 
the    men    alike   found  themselves    in  a   position   of 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM        207 

dependence  upon  the  State.  But  Bismarck  regarded 
this  as  a  good  thing.  In  case  the  working  classes 
ever  showed  any  indiscreet  desire  to  free  themselves 
from  this  control,  there  always  remained  the  possi- 
bility of  having  recourse  to  military  measures  of 
repression  to  keep  them  in  the  path  of  duty. 

The  check  which  this  over-clever  policy  of  balance 
received  is  well  known.  The  working  classes  never 
for  a  single  moment  felt  inspired  by  any  affection 
for  the  State.  They  accepted  as  their  due  the  pen- 
sions and  compensations  which  the  insurance  laws 
gave  them.  But  they  did  not  feel  the  smallest  grati- 
tude towards  the  statesman  who  presumed  to  keep 
the  masses  under  control  because  he  had  conferred 
material  benefits  upon  them,  denied  them  the  right 
of  organising,  and  persecuted  the  trade  unions.  Bis- 
marck's calculations  accordingly  did  not  work  out 
as  he  had  expected.  Arrested  for  a  moment  in  its 
ascent  by  the  police  regulations  made  after  the  as- 
sassination attempts  of  1878,  Socialism,  during  the 
course  of  the  'eighties,  once  more  resumed  its  upward 
march. 

In  1890  a  new  era  of  social  reform  was  inaugurated. 
The  repeal  of  the  law  against  Socialists,  the  appoint- 
ment of  Herr  von  Berlepsch  to  the  Board  of  Trade, 
the  famous  rescripts  of  William  II.,  the  convocation 
at  Berlin  of  an  international  commission  to  prepare 
the  ground  for  a  European  understanding  on  matters 
connected  with  the  protection  of  labour,  and  the 
resignation  of  Bismarck,  marked  the  beginning  of  it. 
The  organisation  of  arbitration  tribunals  for  the 
settlement  of  disputes  between  employers  and  their 
men,  and  the  law  securing  a  holiday  once  a  week, 
were  the  principal  results  of  this  movement.  But, 
in  spite  of  opening  well,  it  did  not  take  long  to  grow 


f&V> 


208  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

slack.  It  soon  became  evident  that  the  representa- 
tives of  capitalistic  enterprise  were  strong  enough  to 
make  most  of  the  proposed  reforms  miscarry.  The 
Conservatives,  who  were  for  the  moment  thrown  into 
opposition  under  the  government  of  the  Chancellor 
Caprivi,  showed  themselves  just  as  hostile  to  the 
schemes  for  protecting  labour  as  the  Liberals  and 
Progressives  who  defended  the  interests  of  capitalism. 
Reactionary  influence  gained  the  upper  hand  more 
and  more  in  the  immediate  circle  of  the  sovereign. 
The  war  against  Socialistic  tendencies  was  renewed. 
A  law  proposed  against  revolutionary  intrigues 
(Umsturzvorlage)  aroused  the  greatest  anxiety  in 
Liberal  circles.  The  attacks  against  the  Pulpit 
Socialists  were  redoubled  in  intensity.  The  social 
agitation  in  the  ranks  of  Protestantism  was  stopped 
by  a  rescript  of  the  Supreme  Evangelical  Council 
(December  16,  1895).  A  sensational  telegram  from 
the  Emperor  declared  that  the  "  Christian  Social  " 
movement  was  nonsense,  and  that  the  clergy  should 
cultivate  charity  and  abstain  from  politics,  of  which 
they  understood  nothing.  And  at  last,  in  June  1896, 
the  reform  minister,  Herr  von  Berlepsch,  sent  in  his 
resignation. 

Yet  the  movement  in  favour  of  social  reform  was 
not  dead  in  the  country.  In  spite  of  the  disapproval 
of  the  Emperor,  Christian  Socialism,  in  the  first  place, 
spread  further  and  further.  On  the  Protestant  side 
it  detached  itself  from  the  Conservative  Party  and 
assumed  a  complexion  more  nearly  approaching  to 
Socialism,  especially  in  the  case  of  the  pastor  Nau- 
mann  and  the  group  of  thinking  men  who  followed 
him.  On  the  Catholic  side,  also,  social  propaganda 
became  more  active  and  more  practical,  in  spite  of 
the  occasionally  sharp  dissensions  which  took  place 


MODERN    POLITICAL    IDEALISM  209 

among  the  promoters  of  the  movement.  Statistics 
show  that  in  1906  evangelical  workmen's  associations 
contained  about  80,000  members,  the  specifically 
Catholic  associations  about  81,000,  and  the  inter- 
denominational Christian  workmen's  syndicates, 
whose  membership  increased  with  marvellous  rapidity, 
numbered  altogether  at  least  250,000  adherents. 

And  this  current  of  social  idealism  was  not  only 
found  in  religious  circles.  It  seems  to  have  gained 
ground  in  all  directions.  It  spread  more  and  more 
among  the  representatives  of  enterprise,  whose  solici- 
tude for  the  welfare  and  protection  of  the  working 
man  grew  ever  more  active.  In  scientific  and 
artistic  circles  questions  of  social  hygiene,  the  problem 
of  cheap  housing,  and  that  of  popular  education  and 
democratic  art,  were  studied  and  discussed  with 
renewed  ardour.  The  municipal  councils  of  the  large 
towns  gave  particular  attention  to  any  measures 
which  might  better  the  condition  of  workers,  from  the 
construction  of  workmen's  dwellings  to  the  building 
of  public  libraries  and  the  laying  out  of  public 
gardens.  In  Parliament,  also,  a  few  new  measures 
for  the  protection  and  insurance  of  labour  have  been 
discussed  or  passed  during  the  last  few  years.  And 
there  are  also  signs  that  in  Government  circles  the 
possibility  is  being  broached  of  once  more  carrying 
out  a  social  policy  in  the  spirit  of  the  rescripts  of 
1890.  The  check  given  to  the  Socialists  by  the  result 
of  the  elections  has  only  strengthened  this  inclina- 
tion. Everything  points  to  the  assumption  that  the 
task  of  protecting  labour,  which  was  interrupted  or 
abandoned  in  1896,  is  about  to  be  resumed  with  re- 
newed activity. 

This  renewal  of  social  idealism  may  well  be  regarded 
as  an  interesting  symptom  in  the  general  evolution 
14 


210  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

which  is  taking  place  in  Germany  at  the  present 
moment.  We  have  already  seen  how  in  the  domain 
of  economics  ever  more  significant  signs  are  appear- 
ing of  a  reaction  against  the  system  of  free  enter- 
prise and  the  principle  of  unrestricted  competition. 
In  politics  similar  tendencies  are  making  themselves 
felt  among  the  enlightened  members  of  the  Conserva- 
tive Party,  among  the  Christians,  whether  Protestant 
or  Catholic,  and  in  highly  cultured  scientific  and 
artistic  circles.  In  addition  to  the  realistic  struggle 
for  national  and  universal  power,  there  has  also  come 
into  being  a  distinct  movement  towards  national 
culture  and  social  peace.  It  seems  certain  that  an 
important  section  of  German  public  opinion  is  tend- 
ing to-day  towards  a  system  of  restricted  competition 
resting  upon  an  idealism  founded  upon  religion,  and 
is  endeavouring  to  solve  the  social  problem  by  the 
help  of  modern  Christianity  and  the  practice  of 
Christian  ethics.  To  what  extent  will  these  ten- 
dencies prevail  over  the  more  definite  solutions 
advocated  by  the  Right  or  the  Left,  absolute  authority 
on  the  one  hand,  or  democratic  Socialism  on  the 
other  ?  The  future  alone  can  decide  to  what  degree 
a  compromise  of  this  nature  between  imperialistic 
rationalism  and  the  religious  instinct  that  believes  in 
tradition  is  either  possible  or  practicable. 


BOOK  III 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  RELIGIOUS  AND 
PHILOSOPHICAL   THOUGHT 


211 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM    IN    GERMANY    AT 
THE    BEGINNING    OF   THE    NINETEENTH    CENTURY 


I  showed  at  the  beginning  of  this  study  how  the 
development  of  science  and  the  scientific  organisa- 
tion of  life  are  the  principal  facts  which  differentiate 
the  modern  era  from  the  Middle  Ages.  Now  this 
profound  modification  of  man's  attitude  of  mind 
brought  in  its  train  a  radical  transformation  of  all 
the  traditional  ideas  about  human  destiny.  The 
modern  mind  no  longer  regards  the  universe  in  the 
same  way  as  the  Christian  of  the  Middle  Ages  ;  it 
no  longer  feels  the  same  religious  emotions  or  sets 
itself  the  same  problems.  It  may,  perhaps,  be 
correct  to  say  that  a  "  scientific  "  conception  of  the 
world  is  tending  to  take  the  place  of  a  "  religious  " 
interpretation.  I  should  prefer  to  express  the  same 
idea  by  saying  that  the  rise  of  theoretical  and  practi- 
cal rationalism  has  renewed  the  "  religion  "  of  the 
modern  European. 

In  fact,  I  do  not  believe  that  any  diminution  of  the 
religious  spirit  has  taken  place,  especially  in  Germany 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Men  perceive  more  and 
more  clearly,  it  is  true,  the  fundamental  differences 
that  exist  between  the  religion  of  to-day  and  that  of 
the  past,  but  they  do  not,  as  a  rule,  willingly  resign 
themselves  to  admit  that  they  necessarily  represent 

213 


214  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

two  irreconcilable  principles.  It  is,  of  course,  im- 
possible for  me  to  say  whether  this  belief  is  right  or 
wrong,  whether  the  future  evolution  of  rationalism 
will  prove  fatal  to  Christianity  or  not,  whether  we 
shall  see  a  definite  and  irrevocable  rupture  between 
the  old  religion  and  modern  thought  effected,  and 
whether  man  in  the  future  will  be  content  with  science 
and  take  refuge  in  absolute  agnosticism  with  regard 
to  everything  else.  But  this  is  a  question  we  may 
well  set  aside  in  a  work  like  the  present.  The  fact, 
however,  which  to  my  mind  seems  absolutely  certain, 
is  that  modern  Germany  does  not,  as  a  rule,  maintain 
the  necessity  of  antagonism  between  Religion  and 
Science,  but,  on  the  contrary,  endeavours  passionately 
to  reconcile  the  two.  She  does  not  desire  in  the  do- 
main of  the  spirit  that  violent  rupture  with  tradition 
for  which  she  strove  in  the  political  sphere.  She 
believes  that  a  continuity  exists  between  the  Chris- 
tianity of  the  past  and  the  "  religion  "  of  the  present 
day,  and  she  is  convinced  that  Christianity  is  capable 
of  development,  and  will  prove  able  to  assimilate  to 
some  extent  the  successive  conquests  of  the  human 
mind. 

Let  us,  then,  turn  to  the  examination  of  the  evolu- 
tion of  religious  thought  in  Germany  during  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  begin  our  study  of  it  with 
the  history  of  Catholicism. 

II 

Catholicism,  relying  as  it  does  more  upon  tradition 
and  authority  than  Protestantism,  which  we  shall 
discuss  later  on,  seemed  at  first  to  be  most  seriously 
menaced,  by  the  development  of  the  rationalistic 
spirit,  with  regard  to  its  time-established  pretensions 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       215 

to  rule  the  souls  of  men.  And  it  is  true  that  in  Ger- 
many, both  at  the  beginning  and  towards  the  end  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  it  passed  through  some  grave 
crises.  Yet,  at  the  same  time,  it  must  be  pointed  out 
that  they:  do  not  seem  to  have  weakened  Catholicism 
to  any  appreciable  extent,  but  that  its  practical  and 
visible  power  is  apparently  more  secure  at  the  pre- 
sent moment  than  it  was  a  century  ago. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  was 
open  to  question  whether  Catholicism,  with  its 
authoritative  and  absolutist  doctrines,  would  not  be 
obliged  to  make  the  most  serious  concessions  to  the 
modern  spirit,  and  whether  it  was  not  even  marching 
towards  disasters  which  might  perhaps  prove  irre- 
parable. The  rationalist  spirit,  which  until  about  that 
time  had  allied  itself  to  the  Protestant  spirit  and  had 
determined  the  course  of  the  "  era  of  enlightenment," 
did,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  also  invade  Catholicism. 
A  reforming  party  came  into  existence,  and  were 
animated  by  a  desire  to  amend  Catholic  institutions 
in  conformity  with  liberal  thought. 

In  the  first  place,  the  reformers  aimed  at  restrict- 
ing and  bringing  back  to  justifiable  limits  the 
authority  of  the  Pope  in  the  Church,  which  they  re- 
garded as  exorbitant.  They  rebelled  against  the 
oppression  under  which  the  Roman  Curia  weighed 
down  the  German  episcopacy,  and  demanded  the 
independence  and  prerogatives  of  the  bishops  with 
regard  to  the  Pope.  They  accused  the  Papacy  of 
having  in  the  past  fraudulently  usurped  the  sovereign 
power  it  had  appropriated  to  itself  by  basing  its  claims 
upon  the  celebrated  pseudo-Isidorian  decretals.  In 
short,  they  asserted  that  the  supreme  authority  over 
the  Church  was  handed  down,  not  to  the  Bishop  of 
Rome,  but  to  the  (Ecumenical  Council.     This  attitude 


216  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

led  them,  on  the  other  hand,  to  show  themselves,  on 
the  question  of  the  relationship  between  Church  and 
State,  respectful  towards  the  rights  of  the  State. 
They  aimed  at  freeing  the  national  Church  as  far  as 
possible  from  all  outside  influence.  They  acknow- 
ledged the  right  of  temporal  sovereigns  to  exercise  an 
extensive  superintendence  and  a  considerable  influence 
in  the  administration  of  the  Church.  Lastly,  they 
endeavoured  to  reform  Catholic  theology  in  a  liberal 
sense,  and  tried  to  introduce  a  more  independent 
spirit  and  a  more  scientific  method  into  the  study  of 
history,  to  simplify  the  ceremonial  of  the  services, 
and  to  restrict  processions  and  pilgrimages.  They 
waged  war  against  certain  religious  orders  like  the 
Jesuits  and  the  mendicant  friars.  They  denounced 
the  ignorance  of  the  clergy,  and  demanded  that 
religious  instruction  should  be  freely  distributed  to  the 
people.  And  they  aimed  at  effacing  or  diminishing 
as  much  as  possible  the  difference  which  separated 
Protestants  and  Catholics,  especially  from  the  moral 
point  of  view. 

And  during  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  the  Roman  Catholic  cause  visibly  lost  ground. 
It  is  true  that  Pope  Pius  VI.  succeeded  in  extracting 
a  semblance  of  recantation  from  Johann  Nikolaus 
von  Hontheim  (Febronius),  the  most  famous  represen- 
tative of  reform.  But  the  liberal  ideas,  of  which  this 
man  had  made  himself  the  champion,  nevertheless 
made  significant  progress.  The  dissolution  of  the 
order  of  the  Jesuits  (1773)  was  an  important  victory 
won  over  the  spirit  of  intolerance  and  of  war  to 
the  death  against  reformation  and  rationalism.  In 
Austria  Joseph  II.  loosened  the  yoke  of  Rome  by  a 
series  of  bold  reforms  ;  he  appointed  himself  the  head 
of  the  Church  in  his  own    empire,  made  enormous 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM        217 

reductions  in  the  number  of  monks,  and  by  the  Edict 
of  Toleration  of  1781  placed  Protestants  upon  the 
same  footing  as  Catholics  with  regard  to  civil  rights 
and  the  holding  of  public  offices.  In  Germany  a  few 
years  later  the  three  ecclesiastical  electors,  together 
with  the  Archbishop  of  Salzburg,  proclaimed  in  the 
famous  Punctalio  of  Ems  (1786)  principles  which  were 
identical  with  those  circulated  byHontheim-Febronius 
on  the  independence  of  bishops  in  relation  to  the 
Holy  See.  The  reform  movement  penetrated  into 
most  of  the  Catholic  universities  of  Germany.  The 
spirit  of  toleration  spread  further  and  further,  and 
everywhere  moderated  denominational  hostility.  All 
propaganda  for  securing  converts  ceased  almost  entirely 
until  the  end  of  the  century.  The  philosophy  of  Kant, 
which  is  inspired  by  an  exceedingly  Protestant  spirit, 
found  numerous  disciples  among  Catholics.  At  this 
juncture  the  French  Revolution  seemed  to  level  a 
decisive  blow  at  Roman  Catholicism  in  the  very  heart 
of  Rome  herself.  In  1798  the  Roman  Republic  was 
proclaimed,  and  a  statue  of  Liberty  with  her  heel 
upon  the  Triple  Crown  was  erected.  Pius  VI.,  in 
spite  of  his  eighty  years,  was  carried  into  captivity 
at  Sienna,  and  afterwards  at  Valencia,  where  he  died 
in  the  following  year.  And  his  successor,  Pius  VII., 
was  appointed  by  a  conclave  which  met  at  Venice 
under  the  protection  of  schismatic  Russia.  At  last, 
a  few  years  later,  the  Recesses  x  of  1803  accomplished 
the  definite  ruin  of  the  temporal  power  of  Catholicism 
in  Germany.  The  Church  lost  her  sovereignty  over 
a  territory  exceeding  1,700  square  miles,  containing 
a  population  of  over  3,000,000  and  producing  a 
revenue  estimated  at  over  21,000,000  florins. 

1  A  Recess,  it  should  be  noted,  is  a  resolrtion,  decree,  or  act  of 
the  Imperial  Diet  of  Germany. — Tr, 


218  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  looked  as 
though  Catholicism  were  on  the  eve  of  extinction. 
Spittler,  a  famous  historian  of  that  time,  at  the  end 
of  his  lectures  on  the  history  of  the  Papacy,  expressed 
his  conviction  that  the  celibacy  of  the  priesthood 
and  the  use  of  Latin  would  shortly  disappear,  even 
in  Austria,  that  the  Catholic  Church  would  cease 
to  be  Roman,  and  that  the  people  would  resume 
the  rights  of  which  they  had  been  deprived  by  the 
clergy.  And  again,  in  1799,  Novalis  wrote  in  a  simi- 
lar spirit  :  "  The  non-essential  form  of  Catholicism 
is  almost  played  out.  The  old  Papacy  is  laid  in  the 
tomb,  and  Rome  for  the  second  time  has  become  a 
ruin." 

But  after  the  last  years  of  the  eighteenth  century 
there  appeared  in  Germany  a  very  strong  reactionary 
movement  in  favour  of  "  positive  "  forms  of  religion. 
This  movement,  which  nourished  at  the  expense 
of  liberal  ideas,  proved  above  all  advantageous  to 
Roman  Catholicism,  and  in  a  very  short  time  suc- 
ceeded in  increasing  to  enormous  proportions  the 
influence  of  the  Catholic  Church,  which  seemed  to  be 
dangerously  menaced. 

The  principal  reason  for  this  sudden  change  should 
apparently  be  sought  in  the  impression  produced 
upon  German  public  opinion  by  the  development 
of  the  French  Revolution,  which  in  the  beginning 
had  been  hailed  with  enthusiasm  by  all  the  cultured 
classes  in  Germany,  who  saw  in  it  the  practical 
realisation  of  the  philosophical  theories  of  the  eight- 
eenth century  and  of  rationalism  and  the  doctrines 
of  Rousseau.  The  Revolution  had  appeared  in  the 
light  of  a  terrible  experience  sent  to  prove  the  organ- 
ising power  of  Reason.  It  had  solemnly  recognised 
as  its  god,  the  god  of  the  philosophers.     People  had 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM        219 

seen  it  celebrate  the  cult  of  the  goddess  Reason  with 
great  pomp  in  Notre  Dame,  and  proclaim  by  the 
mouth  of  Robespierre  that  "  without  constraint  and 
without  persecution  all  sects  would  of  their  own 
accord  become  merged  in  one  body  through  the 
universal  Religion  of  Nature,"  and  it  had  instituted 
in  1794  the  public  and  official  worship  of  this  Supreme 
Being.  But  the  excesses  of  the  revolutionaries,  and 
the  violence  they  displayed  against  their  political  and 
religious  adversaries,  quickly  changed  into  terror, 
aversion,  and  hatred  the  feelings  of  admiration  which 
the  Revolution  had  at  first  inspired.  And  the  more 
severely  people  condemned  the  Revolution,  the  more 
surely  did  they  turn  gradually  away  from  its  funda- 
mental principle  and  from  that  religion  of  Reason 
which  was  guilty,  if  not  of  having  inspired  the  revolu- 
tionary crimes,  at  least  of  not  having  prevented  them. 
And  they  lent  an  ever  more  attentive  ear  to  the  asser- 
tions of  the  emigres,  who  made  "  philosophy  "  and  its 
impious  doctrines  responsible  for  the  great  social 
upheaval. 

Thus  in  opposition  to  the  Revolution  and  to 
rationalism  there  gradually  grew  up  a  coalition  of 
the  historical  and  traditional  powers,  the  sovereigns 
by  divine  right,  the  hereditary  nobility,  and  the 
Church — the  alliance  between  "  the  Throne  and  the 
Altar."  And  was  not  the  "  Altar  "  above  all  per- 
sonified by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  which  had 
always  with  indefatigable  consistency  defended  the 
principle  of  authority  against  philosophical  infidelity 
and  the  sacrilegious  usurpations  of  rebellious  Reason  ? 
From  the  moment  that  the  Revolution  appeared 
(whether  rightly  or  wrongly,  does  not  matter  here) 
as  the  practical  realisation  of  the  rationalistic  ideal, 
the   terror   it   inspired   logically   turned   to   the   ad- 


220  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

vantage  of  the  power  which  was  the  embodiment 
of  the  opposite  principle — the  Papacy ;  and  this  to 
the  detriment  of  reformed  Catholicism  and  of  Pro- 
testantism, which  were  both  under  suspicion  of  having 
entered  into  covenant  with  the  errors  of  the  century, 
and  of  having  allowed  themselves  to  be  led  astray 
into  making  culpable  concessions  to  subversive 
ideas.  In  the  face  of  the  revolutionary  upheaval 
which  endangered  both  the  Throne  and  the  Altar, 
these  two  rival  powers  made  a  truce  to  their  differ- 
ences. The  everlasting  conflict  between  the  Papacy, 
which  embodied  the  international  power  of  the 
Church,  and  the  temporal  sovereigns  who  repre- 
sented the  national  power  of  the  State,  became  a 
secondary  consideration.  Reconciled  by  the  immi- 
nence of  danger,  the  two  adversaries  found  them- 
selves constantly  united  against  the  common  foe, 
against  the  Revolution  and  its  chief  doctrine  of 
rationalist  "  irreligion."  Even  among  the  Protestant 
princes  of  Germany  it  was  possible  in  many  cases 
to  discern  a  certain  sympathy  for  Catholicism  in- 
asmuch as  it  was  a  conservative  force  capable  of 
holding  the  revolutionary  spirit  in  check,  and  of 
inclining  the  people  to  docility  and  submission. 

Nevertheless  it  was  not  at  the  hands  of  kings 
nor  of  the  highest  in  the  land  that  the  Church  found 
salvation.  The  renaissance  of  Catholicism  also 
appears  in  certain  aspects  as  an  impulse  towards 
"  liberty  "  and  as  a  popular  movement.  A  glance 
at  the  position  of  Catholicism  after  the  crisis  of 
1803  will  help  us  to  understand  this  fact. 

The  Recesses  of  1803  had  resulted  in  the  dis- 
appearance in  Germany  of  the  last  vestiges  of 
theocratic  government.  If  matters  are  regarded 
from  this  point  of  view,  it  is  clear  that  the  process 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       221 

of    secularisation    did    great    harm    to    Catholicism. 
It    deprived   the    Church    and   her  congregations  of 
considerable  wealth,  and  to  a  large  extent  diminished 
their  material  power.     Above  all  it  seemed  to  level 
a   blow   at   the   very   independence   of  the   Church, 
which  was  subjected  much  more  directly  than  before 
to  the  frequently  oppressive  and  officious  tutelage 
of  the  temporal  sovereigns  and  their  officials.     His- 
torians   with    ultramontane    sympathies    have     not 
failed  to   point   out   the   precarious   and   dependent 
position   in   which  the  Recesses   left  Catholicism  in 
Germany.     Armed  with  overwhelming  evidence,  they 
have    depicted   the    Church,    stripped    of    her    most 
necessary  rights  and  liberties,  the  authority  of  the 
bishops  annihilated  by  the    power   of   the   officials, 
who  were  chiefly  Protestants  or  hostile  to  Roman 
Catholicism,   the  convents  closed,   their  goods   con- 
fiscated,   and    their    wealth    sometimes    plundered. 
They  have  shown  how  the  Church,  deprived  of  the 
free  administration  of  her  own  resources,  was  reduced 
to  live  by  the  charity  of  secular  powers  and  subjected 
to  the   financial   tutelage   of  the   State,   which   was 
mean  with  regard  to  the  expenses  of  public  worship, 
and   prevented    many    of   the   religious   foundations 
from  fulfilling  their  original  functions.     They  com- 
plained  that    denominational    impartiality    was    not 
preserved  by  the   State,  which   systematically   gave 
the  preference  to  Protestants  rather  than  to  Catholics 
in  all  appointments  in  the  army,  the  Civil  Service, 
and   the  universities.     They  drew   attention  to  the 
fact    that    public    instruction,    in    every    rank,    was 
taken  away  from  the  influence  of  the  Church,  that 
even  the  services  were  restricted  by  the  State,  which, 
under  the   pretext   of   suppressing   abuses,    tried   to 
diminish    the    pomp    of    the    ceremonies,    limit    the 


222     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

number  of  feast-days,  prohibit  processions  and 
pilgrimages,  and  even  introduce  reforms  into  the 
liturgy  on  its  own  authority. 

But  it  is  also  easy  to  perceive  the  extent  to  which 
these  grievances  were  specious  and  calculated  to 
win  sympathy  to  the  Catholic  cause.  Catholicism — 
which  we  have  just  seen  as  an  ally  of  royalty  in 
the  struggle  against  the  Revolution — now  made  its 
appearance  before  the  public  as  a  victim  of  govern- 
mental oppression.  What  did  it  demand,  in  fact,  if 
not  the  same  as  every  Liberal  and  Radical  :  "  liberty  " 
and  emancipation  from  the  tyrannical  control  of  the 
State  ?  The  great  principle  of  autonomy,  which  in- 
spired all  the  claims  of  democracy  against  monarchical 
absolutism,  also  appeared  as  the  basis  of  the  com- 
plaints raised  by  Catholicism  against  the  State  ! 

Its  opponents,  indeed,  replied  on  their  part  by 
denouncing  the  ambitions  of  the  clergy.  They 
tried  to  prove  that  Catholicism  was  in  reality  in  no 
way  oppressed  either  in  its  religious  convictions  or 
in  the  freedom  of  worship,  whilst  the  "  liberty " 
it  demanded  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  right  to 
oppress  its  enemies  and  to  be  supreme  in  the  State, 
and  that  in  the  very  heyday  of  modern  life  it  was 
endeavouring  to  realise  its  old  theocratic  dreams. 
But  they  did  not  succeed  in  robbing  Catholics  of 
the  conviction  that  they  too  were  champions  of 
the  modern  cause  of  autonomy,  that  they  were 
fighting  against  an  officious  State  the  good  fight 
of  liberty,  and  that  the  emancipation  of  the  people 
must  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  emancipation  of 
the  Church.  And  it  is  for  this  reason  that  during 
the  nineteenth  century  the  Catholic  movement 
proved  not  merely  an  anti-revolutionary  mani- 
festation,  but  also  ever  more  and  more    distinctly 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       223 

a  popular  movement  and  an  impulse  on  the  part 
of  the  "  Christian  populace "  towards  religious 
independence. 

Another  consequence  of  the  Recesses  of  1803  was 
the  weakening  of  liberal  and  "  national  "  Catholicism 
to  the  benefit  of  Roman  Catholicism. 

The  powerful  prince-bishops  and  the  rich  prelates 
of  the  old  German  Church,  who  had  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  encroachments  of  secular  influence,  were 
in  a  much  better  position  to  defend  the  independence 
of  the  bishops  and  the  rights  of  the  national  Church 
against  the  absolutist  pretensions  of  the  Papacy. 
"  If  the  bishops,"  said  Cardinal  Pacca,  at  the  time 
when  the  chief  clergy  were  supporting  the  policy  of 
Joseph  II.  against  the  Curia,  "  had  been  less  rich 
and  less  powerful,  they  would  have  listened  with 
more  deference  to  the  voice  of  the  Supreme  Head  of 
the  Church,  and  would  not  have  tried  to  emulate 
the  example  of  the  proud  and  ambitious  patriarchs 
of  Constantinople  and  acquire  an  independence 
which  was  well-nigh  schismatical."  The  Recesses, 
by  reducing  the  temporal  power  of  the  bishops, 
also  struck  a  blow  at  the  head  of  the  reform  party. 
The  new  clergy,  deprived  of  all  real  influence,  and 
with  their  independence  menaced  by  secular  power, 
stood  in  much  greater  need  than  their  predecessors 
had  done  of  the  support  of  the  Curia,  and  quickly 
accustomed  themselves  to  take  the  word  of  command 
from  Rome  with  docility.  Before  1803  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  German  bishops  endeavoured,  with 
the  help  of  the  temporal  princes,  to  defend  the 
prerogatives  of  the  national  Churches  against  the 
Bishop  of  Rome.  After  1803  the  resistance  was 
less  vital  and  more  easily  broken.  The  clergy  found 
themselves    gradually     driven    to    fight,     with    the 


224  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

support  and  under  the  direction  of  the  Pope,  against 
the  pretensions  of  the  secular  State.  The  Papacy- 
appeared  to  good  Catholics  in  the  light  of  the  surest 
guarantee  of  religious  independence  ;  the  sovereignty 
of  the  Pope  alone,  who  was  independent  of  any 
particular  State,  could  guarantee  the  autonomy  of 
the  Church,  and  protect  it  from  the  attempts  of  the 
civil  power  to  invade  the  domain  of  religion. 

The  ancient  episcopal  system  had  in  the  past 
presumed  to  lay  down  the  law  for  the  Pope.  The 
new  episcopacy  did  not  take  long  to  perceive  that 
it  had  to  choose  between  two  alternatives  :  either 
obedience  to  Rome  or  slavery  under  the  State. 
And  it  threw  itself  emphatically  on  the  side  of  Rome. 
A  modern  historian  of  German  Catholicism  says 
that  the  Papacy  appears  as  the  emancipator  of  the 
Church  in  Germany. 

At  the  same  time  as  Catholicism  disciplined  its 
forces  and  concentrated  them  in  order  to  reach 
out  for  power  with  redoubled  energy,  it  also  revealed 
itself  as  a  spiritual  principle  capable  of  gaining  the 
respect  of  men's  minds,  of  inflaming  their  hearts, 
and  of  inspiring  the  imagination  of  artists.  The 
romantic  movement,  which  bound  together  about 
the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  highest 
intellects  of  Germany,  resulted  in  an  apotheosis  of 
Catholicism.  There  is  nothing  more  curious  than 
to  watch  the  transitions  by  which  these  free  spirits 
passed  from  the  most  audacious  and  independent 
philosophical  speculations  to  the  strictest  religious 
faith. 

Romanticism  first  appeared  as  a  protestation 
against  the  somewhat  childish  rationalism  of  the 
"  era  of  enlightenment."  The  rationalists  had 
deified    and    worshipped    conscious    organising    in- 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM        225 

tellect,  and  had  considered  it  capable  of  conceiving 
and  denning  with  perfect  clearness  God  or  the  First 
Cause  of  all  reality,  and  able  by  its  own  light  alone 
to  guide  the  conduct  of  individuals  and  of  nations. 
Romanticism,  on  the  contrary,  posited  the  existence 
of  other  powers  besides  the  intellect,  such  as  moral 
will,  love,  intuition,  and  poetic  imagination,  which 
play  a  decisive  part  in  the  destinies  of  man.  Con- 
tinuing the  work  of  Kant  and  Goethe,  whom  it 
recognised  as  its  masters,  and  inspired,  moreover, 
by  Spinoza  and  Plato,  Bcehme  and  Hemsterhuys, 
it  reached  a  new  solution  of  the  religious  problem. 
The  power  by  which  man  attains  the  knowledge 
of  God  was  not,  in  its  opinion,  the  intellect  alone. 
Kant  had  already  founded  religion,  not  upon 
knowledge,  but  upon  moral  will,  not  upon  theoretical, 
but  upon  practical  reason.  Following  in  his  foot- 
steps, the  romanticists  proclaimed  that  the  existence 
of  God  could  not  be  proved  by  rational  arguments, 
that  religion  was  not  a  certain  kind  of  knowledge, 
and  that  it  was  not  by  intellect  but  by  love,  con- 
templation, moral  will,  and  poetical  imagination, 
that  man  could  find  God. 

It  is  true  that  at  the  beginning  at  least  the  roman- 
ticists were  very  far  from  wishing  to  do  violence 
to  reason,  to  subordinate  it  to  other  faculties,  or 
to  subject  it  to  the  authority  of  a  supernatural  and 
historical  revelation  which  it  must  accept  without 
reservation.  They  repudiated  none  of  the  modern 
conquests  of  reason  and  science,  they  had  no  desire 
to  make  man  retrace  his  footsteps  and  return  to 
obsolete  beliefs.  They  prided  themselves,  on  the 
contrary,  on  being  in  the  van  of  thought,  and  pre- 
sumed to  be  able  to  explore  into  new  regions  of 
the  human  soul.  Their  ambition  was  not  to  contra  - 
15 


226  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

diet  rationalism,  but  to  surpass  it.  They  did  not 
wish  to  correct  the  scientific  conception  of  the 
universe  by  a  religious  conception ;  they  merely 
affirmed  that  they  each  had  their  own  value  and 
mutually  complemented  one  another.  In  short, 
they  had  their  eyes  fixed  not  upon  the  past,  but  upon 
the  future. 

Nevertheless,  romanticism  insensibly  became  more 
disdainful  of  the  power  of  reason.     Directed  in  the 
beginning  against  an  imprudent  rationalism,  which 
exaggerated  the  power  of  the  intellect  beyond  all 
bounds,  it  came  gradually  to  place  theoretical  reason 
lower  and  lower  in  the  scale  of  values  and  to  treat 
it  as  an  inferior  and  suspicious  character,  and  finally 
as  an  enemy.     As  early  as  Novalis  theoretical  intelli- 
gence was  regarded  merely  as  a  sullen  and  grumbling 
scribe,  which  with  great  difficulty  succeeded  now  and 
again  in  incorporating  some  morsel  of  eternal  Truth 
into  its  precepts,  and  became  positively  pernicious 
when  it  tried  to  rebel  against  the  superior  forces, 
such  as  love,  wisdom,  and  poetry,  which  rule  the 
world.     According  to  Friedrich  Schlegel  philosophy 
was  merely  a  barren  attempt  to  explain  the  world 
without  God,  an  illusion  which  made  man  imagine 
that  he  could  draw  from  himself  the  virtues  which 
divine  revelation  had  planted  in  his  heart,  so  that 
he  regarded  as  the  natural  and  normal  products  of 
human  reason  ideas  which  were  in  reality  confused 
reminiscences  of  the  word  which  God  Himself  once 
gave  to  sinful  man.     Speculative  reason,  which  was 
for  the  rationalist  an  infallible  guide  to  man,  became 
in  the  end  a  mistress  of  falsehood  and  a  creator  of 
delusions  in  the  eyes  of  the  romanticists,  who  had 
recovered  from  the  disease  of  intellectual  pride. 
And  in  proportion  as  rational  truth  went  down  in 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       227 

the  scale  of  values,  specifically  religious  truth  rose 
higher  in  their  estimation.  At  the  beginning  they 
attached  but  small  importance  to  the  historical  and 
positive  elements  in  religion.  Fichte,  for  instance, 
professed  a  pantheistic  monism,  which  he  thought 
identical  in  its  essence  with  the  Christianity  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel,  but  which  was  in  reality  a  philo- 
sophical religion  containing  the  elements  common  to 
the  various  Christian  denominations  and  destined  in 
the  end  to  reconcile  them  in  one  last  synthesis.  But 
if  at  first  romanticism,  far  from  being  a  denomina- 
tional reaction,  pushed  toleration,  indifference  to 
dogma,  and  freedom  in  the  matter  of  religious  organi- 
sation to  their  most  extreme  limits,  it  came  gradu- 
ally to  pay  an  ever  more  sincere  and  reverent  re- 
spect to  positive  Christianity.  All  its  thinkers,  from 
Novalisand  Schlegel,toWackenroder  and  Tieck,  waxed 
enthusiastic  over  the  glorious  history  of  Christianity 
in  the  past — the  Middle  Ages  with  their  moving  and 
pious  impulse  towards  art  and  religion,  the  glorious 
days  of  the  Crusades,  when  the  whole  of  Europe 
shared  one  faith,  and  that  golden  age  of  Christianity 
when  one  grand  common  interest  united  the  pro- 
vinces of  that  vast  spiritual  kingdom.  And  finally 
Friedrich  Schlegel,  after  burying  himself  in  the  study 
of  languages,  mythology,  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
East,  arrived  at  the  conviction  that  "  man  did  not 
begin  his  career  without  God."  He  taught  that  the 
evolution  of  the  human  species  was  inconceivable 
without  the  admission  of  a  divine  revelation  at  the 
beginning.  We  could  find  traces  of  this  in  the  most 
ancient  and  venerable  document  we  possessed  on 
the  origin  of  man — the  books  of  Moses  ;  and  we  might 
hear  the  faint  echo  and  discover  more  or  less  con- 
fused recollections  of  it  in  the  ancient  systems  of 


228  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  East.  In  the  depths  of  mankind's  past,  there- 
fore, there  shone  forth  a  supernatural  light,  and  all 
our  efforts  should  be  directed  to  the  sole  end  of 
finding  once  more  by  a  pious  study  of  the  Bible  that 
divine  truth,  which  alone  could  secure  our  salvation. 

Let  us  advance  a  little  further  along  this  path,  and 
we  shall  also  understand  the  growing  sympathy  of 
the  romanticists  with  Catholicism. 

If  one  is  not  disposed  to  eliminate  from  religion 
all  its  positive  elements  as  being  vain  superstitions, 
if  reason  has  no  right  to  correct  religious  intuition, 
is  one  not  in  the  end  led  to  the  logical  conclusion 
that  reform  may,  perhaps,  be  the  first  manifestation 
of  that  impious  rebellion  of  reason  against  faith,  and 
that    the    simplifications    which    Protestantism    has 
introduced  into  the  religion  of  tradition  may  perhaps 
level  a  blow  at  the  very  integrity  of  that  religion  ? 
The    Protestant    Novalis    reproached    reform    with 
having  broken  the  unity  of  Christianity,  and  accused 
it  of  being  "  a  revolutionary  government  which  pro- 
claims  its   own   permanence."      And   on   the   other 
hand    he    praised    in     Catholicism     precisely    those 
characteristics  which   rationalism    condemned  with 
the  greatest  vehemence.     He  extolled  the  Popes  for 
having  in  their  consummate  wisdom  opposed  in  the 
past  "  the  insolent  development  of  certain  human 
faculties  as  well   as  premature  and  dangerous  dis- 
coveries in  the  realm  of  knowledge."     He  also  up- 
held the  celibacy  of  the  priesthood.     He  defended 
the  Jesuits,  in  whom  he  saw  an  admirable  creation 
on  the  part  of  the  ecclesiastical  spirit  and  a  magnifi- 
cent attempt  to  restore  the  Papacy  to  its  pristine 
glory.     And  if  a  large  number  of  romanticists,  like 
Novalis,  Wackenrode,  Tieck,  and  Gentz,  did  not  push 
their  sympathy  for  Catholicism  to  the  point  of  being 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM        229 

publicly  converted,  others  actually  took  this  final 
step.  Friedrich  Schlegel  roundly  condemned  the 
culpable  indifference  of  lukewarm  minds,  who,  under 
the  pretext  that  the  external  forms  of  religion  matter 
very  little,  were  content  out  of  laziness  to  remain 
true  to  the  faith  in  which  they  had  been  brought  up. 
Every  man  should  be  under  the  obligation  to  decide 
for  himself  the  capital  question  as  to  whether  the 
one  immutable  religious  truth  is  to  be  found  on 
the  Protestant  or  the  Catholic  side.  In  SchlegePs 
opinion,  by  the  abolition  of  the  external  forms  of 
religion,  reform  had  at  the  same  time  rejected  the 
most  essential  and  most  sublime  elements  of  Chris- 
tianity. And  he  acted  in  accordance  with  his  beliefs. 
Partly  through  his  reasoned  convictions  as  a  his- 
torian and  a  critic,  and  partly  as  an  act  of  faith,  and 
the  free  choice  of  his  deepest  feelings,  he  became  an 
official  convert  to  Catholicism  at  Cologne  on  April 
the  16th,  1808. 

And  his  was  not  an  isolated  case.  Conversions  of 
this  kind  became  very  frequent  at  that  time.  Men 
of  science  and  learning,  like  the  philosopher  Moller, 
Rumohr  the  aestheticist,  the  political  economist 
Adam  Miiller  ;  authors  like  Zacharias  Werner  ;  artists 
like  the  two  Veits,  Klinkowstrom,  Overbeck,  and  the 
two  Schadows  ;  statesmen  like  Platner  and  Eduard 
von  Schenk ;  publicists  like  Jarcke ;  princes  like 
Frederick  of  Hesse-Darmstadt  or  Adolphus  of 
Mecklenburg-Schwerin,  went  over  to  Catholicism. 
The  fact  that  "  human  "  motives  may  have  contri- 
buted to  these  conversions  is  probable  and  even 
likely.  Political  considerations  or  artistic  dilettan- 
tism, the  idea  that  Catholicism  was  an  effective 
method  of  keeping  nations  under  control,  or  that  it 
was   par  excellence  the   aesthetic   religion,   the  faith 


230  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

which  inspired  the  great  artists  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  gave  birth  to  the  masterpieces  of  painting  and 
music,  was  probably  an  important  factor  in  the  con- 
version of  many  individuals.  But,  generally  speak- 
ing, it  is  certain  that  their  sincerity  was  above 
suspicion,  and  that  they  were  simply  induced  to  go 
to  the  extreme  limit  by  the  strong  current  which 
bore  away  the  minds  of  men  from  rationalism  and 
carried  them  imperceptibly  towards  religious  faith. 

Thus  the  cycle  of  the  religious  evolution  of  roman- 
ticism was  completed.  Innovators  and  revolution- 
aries at  the  beginning,  the  romanticists  wished  at 
first  to  continue  the  work  of  the  classical  era,  and  to 
explore  a  domain  of  the  human  soul  unknown  to  the 
rationalism  of  the  eighteenth  century.  We  find 
them  carefully  fixing  the  limits  of  the  religious  sphere, 
attributing  in  the  psychic  life  of  humanity  an  ever 
greater  importance  to  irrational  elements,  to  mystic 
intuition,  to  sentiment  and  to  love,  and  paying  an 
ever  more  respectful  attention  to  the  historical  data 
of  religion.  From  an  almost  entirely  rational  con- 
ception of  religion,  a  sort  of  philosophical  Protes- 
tantism stripped  of  every  historical  and  dogmatic 
element,  romanticism,  after  holding  theoretical 
reason  in  ever  lower  esteem,  finally  ended  in  an  idea 
of  religion  which  was  ever  more  and  more  "  irrational  - 
istic."  Its  sympathies  increased  in  ardour  for 
religious  beliefs  in  which  the  superhuman  element 
predominated.  It  showed  an  ever  more  decided 
preference  for  Catholicism  in  which  the  ecclesiastical 
hierarchy  and  the  strict  discipline,  the  character  of 
long  tradition  and  authoritative  principles,  formed 
the  most  marked  contrast  with  the  rational  religion 
of  the  Categorical  Imperative.  The  precept  of  auto- 
nomy,    which    pervaded    the    moral    and    religious 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       231 

doctrines  of  Kant,  seemed  thenceforward  an  impious 
belief  inspired  by  a  rash  confidence  in  the  organising 
power  of  human  reason.  Rationalistic  pride  became 
merged  in  a  respectful  adoration  of  the  impenetrable 
mystery  of  the  universe  and  in  a  confession  full  of 
humility  of  the  weakness  and  poverty  of  man.  The 
contrite  and  repentant  romanticist,  fallen  from  his 
high  hopes  and  his  arrogant  pride,  returned  humbly 
to  the  school  of  divine  revelation  and  sought  relief 
for  his  anxiety  and  doubt  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross 
and  in  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

Thus  we  see  the  importance  of  the  romantic  move- 
ment in  the  development  of  Catholicism.  Obviously 
the  adhesion  of  a  few  cultured  minds  or  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  few  artists  could  not  determine  its 
success.  But  it  is  none  the  less  significant  to  find 
that  Catholicism  was  able  to  regain  its  influence  over 
the  educated  minority.  Rationalism  was  full  of 
disgust  for  "  superstition."  The  German  mind  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century  treated  the  Catholic 
idea  as  a  negligible  quantity.  "  The  Church  of 
Rome,"  said  Herder,  "  is  merely  an  old  ruin  into 
which  fresh  life  can  never  be  breathed."  But  thence- 
forward this  was  not  so.  It  is  true  that  positivism, 
true  to  rationalistic  tradition,  considered  religious 
thought  an  anachronism  which  was  destined  to  dis- 
appear. But  the  cause  of  religion  found  at  this 
time  convinced  and  able  defenders  in  the  ranks  of 
cultured  men.  Romanticism  considered  that  the 
highest  step  Reason  could  take  was  precisely  to 
realise  her  own  incompetence  and  raise  herself  to 
religion  ;  positivist  rationalism,  far  from  being  the 
last  stage  in  the  mental  evolution  of  man,  was  in  its 
eyes  merely  a  transitory  and  outgrown  phase. 

The   romantic   movement,   moreover,   was   not   a 


232     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

mere  stage  which  was  quickly  left  behind  in  the 
evolution  of  the  German  spirit.  It  was  prolonged 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  nineteenth  century  with 
varying  success,  but  without  ever  stopping.  The 
/ )  early  romanticism  of  Schlegel,  Novalis,  Schelling, 
Wackenroder  and  Tieck  was  followed  by  the  ro- 
manticism of  the  Heidelberg,  Dresden,  and  Berlin 
circles,  then  by  the  era  of  young  Heine,  the  reign 
of  Frederick  William  IV.,  the  reactionary  period 
which  followed  upon  1848,  and  lastly  by  the  modern 
neo-romanticism  of  our  own  day.  And  throughout 
all  these  transformations  it  remained  unchanged  in 
all  its  essential  characteristics.  The  religiosity  which 
inspired  Richard  Wagner's  doctrine  of  regeneration, 
and  which  is  voiced  in  his  Parsifal,  is  reminiscent  in 
many  respects  of  the  early  romantic  school — even 
to  the  vague  perfume  of  Catholicism,  which  Nietzsche 
thought  he  could  detect  in  it. 

In  short,  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  the 
philosophy  and  the  religious  psychology  of  ro- 
manticism, by  lowering  on  the  one  hand  the  pride  of 
our  "  little  sagacity,"  1  and  on  the  other  by  repre- 
senting Catholicism  as  perfectly  compatible  with  the 
highest  intellectual  and  artistic  culture,  largely  con- 
tributed to  the  renaissance  of  the  Catholic  faith 
among  the  civilised  nations  of  the  world. 

At  the  same  time  as  it  won  over  an  important 
section  among  the  cultured  minority,  Catholicism 
also  imposed  itself  by  a  different  process  upon  the 
lowest  of  the  people.  It  conquered  them  by  giving 
ample     satisfaction     to    the     somewhat     ponderous 

1  This  is  an  allusion  to  a  distinction  which  Nietzsche  makes  be- 
tween the  "great  sagacity"  which  consists  of  the  instincts  of  the 
body  and  the  "little  sagacity"  which  is  the  mind.  See  Zarathustra, 
pp.  35,  36.— Tb. 


RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM       233 

appetite  for  the  supernatural,  which  is  always  to  be 
found  in  the  breast  of  the  multitude.  During  the 
nineteenth  century  the  use  of  indulgences  increased. 
In  almost  all  the  large  churches  in  Germany  to-day 
there  is  a  "  special  altar  "  upon  which  the  Pope  has 
conferred  the  following  privilege — that  if  a  priest  says 
a  Mass  before  it  for  the  soul  of  a  Catholic  who  died 
in  the  love  of  Christ,  that  soul  will  receive  plenary 
indulgence,  and  is  immediately  delivered  from  the 
torments  of  Purgatory.  Similarly  the  worship  of  the 
saints  took  on  a  fresh  development,  and  above  all  the 
adoration  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  which  dates, 
it  is  true,  from  the  seventeenth  century,  but  only 
attained  its  complete  significance  in  the  second  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  idea  of  worship 
became  attached  even  to  the  most  external  and 
material  objects  :  Catholics  were  taught  that  con- 
secrated incense  had  a  "  supernatural  spiritual  effect  " 
and  produced  "  an  odour  of  sanctity,"  that  vessels  used 
at  the  services  "  had  something  of  the  divine  "  and 
ought  therefore  to  be  honoured  by  a  sort  of  religious 
respect.  The  popular  faith  was  exalted  by  the  solemn 
exhibition  of  the  relics  of  the  saints.  In  1844 
1,100,000  pilgrims  gathered  from  every  corner  of 
Germany  and  thronged  round  the  Sacred  Tunic  of 
Treves  in  a  fever  of  devotion,  and  with  a  thirst  for 
miracles,  which  was  somewhat  disconcerting  to  the  r 
modern  sceptic.  From  that  moment  spectacles  of 
this  nature  increased  in  number,  and  miraculous  I 
cures,  which  were  piously  placed  upon  record,  as  in 
the  case  of  Treves,  or  marvellous  apparitions,  which 
were  regarded  as  adding  to  the  glory  of  the  Church, 
as  at  Marpingen,  constantly  kept  alive  and  stimulated 
the  old  love  of  the  people  for  the  supernatural  and  for 
material  miracles. 


234    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Lastly,  the  activity  of  Catholic  propaganda  among 
the  masses  was  increased  by  the  creation  of  an  enor- 
mous number  of  guilds,  brotherhoods,  and  religious 
societies,  which  were  multiplied  more  particularly  in 
the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  some 
of  which  contained  thousands  of  German  members. 
"  All  these  associations  and  their    members,"   says 
a  recent  historian,  "  live  under  the  spiritual  domina- 
tion of  neo-Catholicism  and  its  ritual  ;  they  are  bound 
together  by  the  special  worship  of  the  saint  of  their 
particular  brotherhood,  and  carry  out  their  obliga- 
tions as  citizens  in  the  spirit  of  this  neo-Catholicism. 
They  take  part  in  processions,  and  are  sometimes 
honoured  by  being  allowed  to  bear  a  banner  or  hold 
the  canopy  over  the  head  of  the  priest,  who  carries 
the  Host.     Each  one  of  them  quivers  with  pious  thrills 
inspired  by  the  ritual,  whether  he  mingles  with  the 
rest  of  the  congregation  or  kneels  before  the  special 
altar  of    his  brotherhood,  and  they  all  live  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  the  indulgences  which,  since  the 
time   of   Pius   IX.,   have   been   dispensed   with   the 
greatest    liberality."     The    numberless    associations, 
headed  by  the  ordinary  clergy  and  the  Jesuits,  and 
supported    by    an    increasingly    important    religious 
press,  have  exercised   a  decisive  influence   over   the 
destinies  of  German  Catholicism.     They  have  made 
the  Catholic   movement    "democratic."     The    influ- 
ence of  the  bishops  and  the   high  dignitaries  of  the 
Church,  which  was  formerly  exercised  in  favour  of 
aristocratic  principles,  was  considerably  reduced  at  the 
end  of  the  century — from  the  day  on  which  the  Pope, 
summing  up  in  his  own  person  the  tradition  of  the 
Church,  proclaimed  his  infallibility.     It  was  by  this 
means   that   German    Catholicism  has  come   at   the 
present  day  to  represent  an  essentially  popular  party, 


- 

RENAISSANCE    OF    CATHOLICISM        235 

admirably     organised,     controlled    and     disciplined, 
which  plays  a  clever  and  successful  part  in  political 
struggles,   fights  eagerly  for  power,   and  obediently 
takes  the  word  of  command  from  the  infallible  Pope, 
who  furnishes  it  with  the  general  outlines  of  its  policy. 
Invigorated  in  this  way  by  a  number  of  favourable 
conditions  which  hastened  its  diffusion,  both  among 
the  classes  and  the  masses,  the  Catholic  Renaissance 
proclaimed  its  existence  after  the  first  few  years  of  the 
nineteenth  century  by  a  series  of   significant  symp- 
toms.     In  1800  the  conversion  of   Count  Friedrich 
Leopold  of  Stolberg  took  place  ;    after  long  years  of 
hesitation  he  went  over  to  Catholicism  out  of  dis- 
gust   "  for   the   pitiable   condition   of   the   Lutheran 
religion,  which  under  our  very  eyes  is  melting  into 
theism  and  atheism."     This  conversion  was  a  sign  of 
the  times,   all  the  more  important  because  it  was 
followed  (as  we  have  already  seen)  by  a  long  series 
of  similar  conversions.     Gradually,  active  centres  of 
Catholic     propaganda    were    formed.     At    Munster 
there  was  the  group  founded  by  the  Princess  Amelia 
of  Gallitzine,  at  Wurzburg  and  Eichstadt  the  Catholic 
circles  directed  by  Bishop  Zirkel,  and  at  Vienna  the 
Ultramontane  Party  organised  after  1808  by  Father 
Clemens   Maria   Hofbauer.     After   the   concordat   of 
1802,  concluded  with  Napoleon,  which  marks  the  first 
important  victory  of  the  Curia,  the  influence  of  Rome 
grew  ever  more  important  through  the  complicated 
negotiations  which  paved  the  way  for  the  reorganisa- 
tion of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  west  and  south 
of  Germany.     The  vehement  and  malevolent  oppo- 
sition displayed  towards  a  Liberal  prelate,  like  the 
celebrated  Vicar-General  Ignatius  Henry  of  Wessen- 
berg,  whose  deposition  the  Pope  demanded  in  1814, 
proves  the  weakness  of  the  reforming  party.     Lastly, 


236  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  fall  of  Napoleon  marked  the  decisive  victory  of 
the  Papacy.  In  1814  the  triumphal  entry  of  Pius  VII. 
into  Rome  took  place,  followed  in  the  same  year  by 
the  restoration  of  the  order  of  the  Jesuits  to  their 
old  constitution  and  privileges,  and  shortly  after- 
wards by  the  renewal  of  the  Inquisition  and  the 
revival  of  the  Index. 

And  in  1832,  in  the  Bull  Pastor  Aeternus,  by  which 
he  proclaimed  his  elevation  to  the  pontifical  throne, 
Gregory  XVI.  launched  a  haughty  declaration  of 
war  against  modern  subjectivism  :  "  The  cause  of 
the  progress  of  unbelief  and  rebellion  against  the 
sacred  dogma  of  the  Church  is  pseudo-science.  It 
is  the  teaching  and  the  example  of  the  masters  that 
has  turned  away  the  hearts  of  the  young,  brought 
about  the  defeat  of  religion,  and  the  terrible  decadence 
of  morals.  It  is  therefore  needful,  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  Church  from  all  these  innovations,  to  recall 
at  once  to  men's  minds  that  the  Pope  alone  can  decide 
the  doctrines  and  the  government  of  the  Church  ; 
the  bishops  must  always  agree  with  the  Holy  Father, 
and  the  priests  must  obey  the  bishops.  The  disci- 
pline ordained  by  the  Church  must  never  be  called  in 
question,  or  above  all  be  subordinated  to  the  power  of 
the  State.  It  is  absurd  to  talk  about  the  regeneration 
of  the  Church,  and  an  abomination  to  attack  the  vow 
of  celibacy  and  to  cast  doubt  upon  the  indissolubility 
of  the  marriage  tie.  Above  all  it  is  needful  to  fight 
against  indifference  and  the  illusion  that  salvation 
can  be  found  in  any  creed.  For  from  this  arises 
that  foolish  error  that  every  man  has  the  right  to 
liberty  of  conscience." 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM    DURING    THE    NINE- 
TEENTH   CENTURY 


During  the  nineteenth  century  Roman  Catholicism 
met  with  two  chief  adversaries  in  Germany — reformed 
Catholicism,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  secular  State 
on  the  other.  But  it  obtained  an  almost  uninterrupted 
series  of  victories  over  them  both. 

The  triumph  of  the  Church  of  Rome  over  Liberal 
Catholicism  was  complete  and   apparently  decisive. 
From  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  Church 
entered  upon  a  campaign  of  extermination  against  it, 
which  it  continued  from  that  time  forward  with  in- 
vincible pertinacity.     As  early  as  about  1794  com- 
plaints from  the  pens  of  Liberal  writers  are  to  be 
found  about  the  gradual  disappearance  of  the  pro- 
gressive spirit.     And  the  measures  taken  in  the  same 
year  against  several  Liberal  professors  in  the  Catho- 
lic   University    of    Dillingen,    of    whom    the   gentle 
mystic  Sailer  was  one,  prove  the  growing  power  of 
anti-rationalistic    tendencies.      Nevertheless    Liberal 
Catholicism  was  still  a  power  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth   century.     Its   principal    supporters   were 
to  be  found  among  the  superior  clergy  and  in  the 
Catholic  universities.     Baron  von    Wessenberg,    the 
Vicar-General  of  the  Bishopric  of  Constance,  Christian 
von   Hohenlohe-Waldenburg,    the    Prince-Bishop    of 

237 


238  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Breslau,  Count  Spiegel,  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne, 
and  numerous  other  prelates,  like  Bishop  Frint  at 
Saint-Polten,  Bishop  Gruber  at  Salzburg,  and  Bishop 
Milde  in  Vienna,  gave  evidence  of  a  wide  Liberalism 
in  their  administration,  and  showed  a  more  or  less 
open  sympathy  with  the  idea  of  a  national  Church 
which  should  preserve  a  certain  independence  in 
its  relations  with  the  Chair  of  St.  Peter.  At  the  same 
time  the  Liberal  spirit  began  to  make  itself  felt  in  the 
Catholic  universities.  Professor  Hermes  of  Bonn, 
the  most  famous  representative  of  these  tendencies, 
constructed  a  system  which  founded  Catholic  dogma 
upon  the  basis  of  Kant's  philosophy.  He  succeeded 
in  securing  the  triumph  of  his  ideas  among  the  facul- 
ties and  seminaries  of  Treves,  Cologne,  Munster, 
Breslau,  and  Braunsberg.  But  Roman  Catholicism 
was  not  slow  to  regain  the  upper  hand.  At  the  Con- 
gress of  Vienna,  as  well  as  at  the  Bundestag  of  Frank- 
fort, the  organisation  of  the  "  Church  of  Germany," 
dreamt  of  by  Wessenberg,  failed  to  be  carried  out 
owing  to  the  dissensions  among  the  German  states 
and  the  intrigues  of  the  Ultramontanes.  The  over- 
whelming hostility  with  which  Wessenberg  met  at 
Rome  compelled  him  to  retire  in  1827,  and  death 
gradually  freed  the  Papacy  of  its  other  adversaries 
in  the  ranks  of  the  superior  clergy  in  Germany. 
Finally,  at  the  end  of  the  'thirties,  after  the  death  of 
Hermes  and  his  protector,  Count  Spiegel,  Hermesian- 
ism,  which  had  been  condemned  by  the  Pope,  was 
violently  eradicated  from  the  Catholic  faculties, 
and  after  a  futile  resistance  slowly  died  out.  Thus 
the  decisive  blow  was  struck  at  the  Reform  Party, 
which,  stripped  of  its  influence  over  ecclesiastical 
education,  found  itself  reduced  to  the  alternative  of  a 
full  and  complete  submission  or  to  a  fruitless  struggle. 


PROGRESS    OF   CATHOLICISM  239 

It  was  from  that  time  forward  condemned  to  im- 
potence in  spite  of  a  few  attempts  at  resistance,  which 
did  not  seriously  trouble  the  victorious  Church  of 
Rome.     The  campaigns  against  the  celibacy  of  the 
priesthood,  which  for  some  time  agitated  Silesia  and 
Baden,  the  movement  in  favour  of  a  German  liturgy 
and  the  simplification  of  the  ritual,  which  gave  rise 
to  fairly  lively  polemics,  the  synodal  agitation,  which 
before  1848  demanded  an  equal  distribution  of  power 
between  the  ecclesiastical  hierarchy  and  the  internal 
opinion  of  the  Church,  produced  no  result  of  any  im- 
portance.    The  "  German  Catholic  "  movement,  let 
loose  by  Ronge  and  Czerski  at  the  time  of  the  exhi- 
bition of  the  Sacred  Tunic  at  Treves  in  1844,  and  which 
resulted  in  the  formation  of  one  or  two  separatist 
communities,   remained  confined  to  a  very  limited 
circle,  and  had  not  the  slightest  effect  upon  the  life  of 
Catholicism  as  a  whole.      And  when  at    last  ultra- 
montanism  plucked  the  final  fruit  of  its  victory  and 
proclaimed  in  1870  the  dogma  of   the  infallibility  of 
the  Pope,  the  protestations  of  Liberal  Catholicism  in 
Germany  were  feeble  and  impotent.     In  spite  of  the 
great  personal  merit  of  the  protesters,  men  like  Dol- 
linger,   Friedrich,  Schulte,   and  Reinkens,  the   "  Old 
Catholics,"  who  refused  to  acquiesce  in  the  dogma  of 
infallibility  or  to  accept  the  complete  domination  of 
Rome,  did  not  meet  with  any  lasting  success.   Though 
they  were  able  to  offer  a  certain  resistance,  especially 
at  Bonn  and  Munich,  which  were  their  chief  centres 
of  influence,  and  to  organise  independent  parishes, 
and  even  in  1863  to  appoint  a  special  bishop,  their 
numbers  always  remained  insignificant.     They   never 
had  more  than   100,000  followers  in  Germany  and 
Switzerland,    and   these   gradually    declined   to   less 
than  30,000.     Everywhere  the  bishops,  even   those 


240  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

who  had  been  hostile  to  the  promulgation  of  the 
dogma  of  infallibility,  bowed  before  the  accomplished 
fact,  and  obediently  proclaimed  the  new  dogma  in 
their  dioceses,  and  succeeded,  without  meeting  with 
any  serious  opposition,  in  making  their  well-disciplined 
flock  of  true  believers  follow  in  their  train. 


II 

Just  as  Roman  Catholicism  broke  the  resistance  of 
the  Reforming  Party,  it  also  vigorously  opposed  the 
pretensions  of  the  State,  and  finally,  after  a  great 
conflict,  secured  that  Catholic  "liberty"  which  it  con- 
sidered necessary  for  the  independence  of  the  Church. 

It  gradually  forced  the  German  states  to  loosen 
the  bonds  of  dependence  in  which  they  wished  to 
keep  the  Church.  This  design  was  already  clearly 
outlined  in  the  negotiations  which  led  to  the  ecclesi- 
astical reorganisation  of  Germany  at  the  time  of  the 
Peace  of  Vienna.  After  having  succeeded  in  prevent- 
ing, both  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna  and  subsequently 
at  the  Diet  of  Frankfort,  the  constitution  of  a 
"  Church  of  Germany  "  capable  of  developing  into 
an  autonomous  body  independent  of  Rome,  papal 
diplomacy  entered  into  separate  negotiations  with 
the  various  German  states,  and  concluded  during  the 
years  between  1817  and  1821  advantageous  con- 
cordats with  Bavaria,  Prussia,  and  the  petty 
states  of  the  South.  The  resistance  of  Catholicism 
to  State  control  was  afterwards  accentuated  when 
the  controversy  between  the  Government  and  the 
two  Archbishops  of  Cologne  and  of  Posen,  respectively, 
took  place  on  the  subject  of  the  Church's  blessing 
on  mixed  marriages.  This  conflict  was  terminated 
by  the  almost  unreserved  capitulation  of  the  Prussian 


PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM  241 

Government  to  the  demands  of  the  Church.  In 
1848  the  Conclave  of  German  Bishops  assembled  at 
Wiirzburg  solemnly  formulated  the  demands  of  the 
new  German  episcopate.  They  protested  against 
the  encroachments  which,  under  the  pretext  of 
rights  of  patronage,  the  temporal  princes  had  made 
upon  the  domain  of  the  Church,  asserted  the  privi- 
leges of  the  ecclesiastical  hierarchy  in  connection 
with  seminaries  and  theological  faculties,  claimed 
for  the  bishops  the  right  of  free  communication  with 
the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  and  rose  against  the  exercise 
of  the  right  of  placet  by  the  civil  authority.  Most 
of  these  demands,  with  the  approval  of  the  Pope, 
passed  during  the  'fifties  into  the  legislation  of  Prussia 
(1848  and  1850)  and  of  Austria  (Concordat  of  1855), 
who,  after  having  been  for  a  long  time  the  strong- 
hold of  reform,  became  once  more  the  central  hearth 
of  Roman  Catholicism  in  Germany.  About  1860 
the  hierarchy,  relying  upon  the  clerical  democracy 
and  the  numberless  Catholic  associations,  which  had 
spread  their  roots  through  the  whole  country,  had 
obtained  from  the  secular  powers  throughout  Ger- 
many a  sum-total  of  concessions  which  went  far  to 
secure  the  independence  necessary  for  the  free 
exercise  of  Catholicism. 

Nevertheless,  a  fresh  conflict,  more  grave  than  all 
the  preceding  ones,  was  in  course  of  preparation. 

On  the  one  hand  the  evolution  of  Ultramontane 
Catholicism  produced  its  final  consequences.  A 
series  of  dogmatic  decrees  of  capital  importance — the 
promulgation  of  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Con- 
ception in  1854,  the  Syllabus  of  1864,  and  above  all 
the  proclamation  of  Papal  Infallibility  by  the  Vatican 
Council  in  1870 — crowned  the  imposing  edifice  of  the 
Romish  system,  and  made  the  most  rigorous  absolu- 
16 


242  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

tism  predominant  in  the  Church.  The  authority 
of  the  Pope  unequivocably  proclaimed  itself  as  the 
supreme  tribunal  of  Catholicism,  and  exercised  a 
direct  influence  upon  the  lowest  masses  of  the 
Catholic  democracy.  The  bishops,  stripped  of  their 
autonomy,  and  held  in  check  by  the  infallibility  of 
the  Supreme  Head  of  the  Church,  were  reduced  to 
the  position  of  docile  intermediaries  between  the 
Pope  and  the  "  Christian  populace."  And  on  the 
other  hand,  to  counterbalance  this  mighty  spiritual 
power,  which  displayed  ever  more  clearly  its  desire 
to  dominate  the  civil  power,  the  German  Empire 
was  brought  to  life  once  more  in  the  very  centre 
of  Europe.  But  this  Empire  was  not  the  res- 
toration of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  which  had 
existed  before  the  Revolution,  and  it  had  not  been 
formed  under  the  hegemony  of  Catholic  Austria. 
Fierce  political  struggles  and  two  great  wars  had 
placed  a  Hohenzollern  at  its  head,  and  the  new 
Empire  was  dominated  by  Protestant  influences. 
Thus  the  Roman  Curia,  despoiled  of  its  temporal 
power  by  revolutionary  Italy,  also  saw  its  influence 
in  Europe  menaced  by  the  rise  of  a  great  Protestant 
State.  From  that  moment  it  prepared  itself  for  a 
struggle  which  it  regarded  as  inevitable.  In  alliance 
with  all  the  particularistic  elements,  which  had  been 
injured  by  the  hegemony  of  Prussia,  the  Catholic 
democracy  of  Germany,  under  the  able  guidance 
of  the  Guelf  Windthorst,  mobilised  its  forces.  A 
Catholic  party,  the  Centre,  which  united  the  appar- 
ently most  heterogeneous  elements,  in  which  Bavarian 
aristocrats,  Prussian  Junkers,  and  Polish  magnates 
rubbed  shoulders  with  Liberals  and  Radicals  from 
the  Valley  of  the  Rhine,  was  formed  during  the 
elections  of  March  1871  for  the  defence  of   Catholic 


PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM  243 

interests.  Between  German  Catholicism  hostile  to 
the  Empire  and  the  Imperial  Government  very 
jealous  of  its  power  and  resolved  not  to  have  the 
law  laid  down  by  a  rival,  war  was  inevitable.  The 
Kulturkampf  represented  the  duel  between  the 
Empire  and  the  Curia. 

On  the  question  of  the  scope  and  significance  of 
the  Kulturkampf  there  exists  a  great  difference  of 
opinion  on  the  part  of  historians. 

Some  of  them  depict  Bismarck  as  having  been 
surprised  by  the  clerical  aggression,  which  he  had 
not  foreseen,  and  in  which  he  did  not  wish  to  believe. 
Driven  by  his  too  exclusively  realistic  nature  into 
imagining  that  he  would  make  an  end  of  the  clerical 
opposition  by  having  recourse  to  police  measures, 
he  gradually  learnt  to  realise  the  futility  of  his  brutal 
policy.  He  therefore  beat  a  retreat,  in  spite  of  his 
vow  that  he  would  "  not  go  to  Canossa,"  l  and 
allowed  the  May  Laws  one  after  the  other  to  fall  into 
desuetude.  And  finally  he  found  himself  obliged 
to  purchase,  by  means  of  concessions,  the  support 
of  the  Centre  Party,  which  became  the  arbiter  of 
the  political  destinies  of  Germany  and  the  pivot  of 
the  Government  majority. 

Others  represent  the  religious  policy  of  the  great 
Chancellor  in  a  less  primitive  and  more  favourable 
light.  They  insist  on  the  impossibility  for  Bismarck 
to  come  to  any  understanding  by  means  of  diplomatic 
negotiations,  and  through  the  instrumentality  of  a 
concordat  with  a  Power  which  declared  itself  in- 
fallible and  aspired  to  dominate  every  civil  authority. 

1  Meaning  he  would  not  humiliate  himself  before  the  Pope. 
The  mention  of  Canossa  refers,  of  course,  to  the  fact  that  the 
Emperor  Henry  IV.  waited  three  days  and  three  nights  in  a  court- 
yard at  that  place  for  the  pardon  of  Pope  Gregory  VII.  (1077). — Te. 


244     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

They  approve  of  Bismarck's  policy  of  having,  under 
the  circumstances,  preferred  to  regulate  the  relations 
between  Church  and  State  in  an  authoritative  way, 
by  means  of  legislation,  so  as  subsequently  to  be  in 
a  position  to  negotiate  secretly  with  the  Head  of 
the  Church,  and  gradually  to  modify  the  law  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  make  it  acceptable  to  both  sides 
alike.  And  they  praise  the  Chancellor  for  having 
carried  out  this  delicate  policy  with  marvellous  skill, 
for  having  fought  with  a  warlike  spirit  and  a  vigorous 
resolution  the  battle  against  clerical  demagogy,  and 
for  having  afterwards,  in  his  negotiations  with  the 
Curia  and  the  diplomats  of  Rome,  shown  a  very 
keen  insight  into  the  political  necessities  and  possi- 
bilities of  the  moment.  And  they  give  him  credit 
for  having  in  the  end  succeeded  in  organising  the 
relationship  between  Church  and  State  in  such  a  way 
as  to  provide  sufficient  safeguard  for  the  rights  of  the 
State,  and  at  the  same  time  with  enough  liberality 
to  give  satisfaction  to  the  Church  and  reconcile  the 
Catholic  particularistic  Centre  with  the  new  Empire. 

In  short,  it  is  quite  open  to  question  who  was  the 
real  victor  in  this  conflict  between  the  spiritual  and 
temporal  powers.  Events  can  be  represented  either 
in  the  light  of  a  triumph  for  Catholicism,  which  vic- 
toriously repulsed  an  awkward  and  brutal  attempt 
at  oppression,  or  else  as  a  success  for  the  State,  which 
vigorously  held  its  own  against  the  particularistic 
and  clerical  opposition  directed  against  the  Protes- 
tant Empire  of  the  Hohenzollern. 

In  distinction  to  these  two  views  the  one  thing 
certain  is  that  an  understanding  was  finally  reached 
between  the  two  adversaries,  and  that  it  was  an 
exceedingly  curious  evolution  which  rendered  this 
change  of  front  possible. 


PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM  245 

There  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  necessary  or 
inevitable  antagonism  between  the  Catholic  Church 
and  the  German  Empire.  It  required  time  for  both 
sides  to  realise  that  a  system  of  mutual  tolerance 
and  even  of  profitable  co-operation  was  possible. 
But  an  agreement  was  eventually  reached  between 
them.  The  State  learnt  that  it  could  with  advantage 
give  up  the  hostile  legislation  and  severe  measures 
passed  at  the  beginning  of  the  conflict,  and  little  by 
little  it  laid  down  its  arms.  In  1879  Falk,  who  had 
directed  the  war  against  clericalism,  resigned  his 
ministry.  Between  1881  and  1887  most  of  the 
regulations  enforced  by  the  famous  '  May  Laws  " 
were  abrogated  one  after  the  other.  And  in  1904  one 
of  the  last  vestiges  of  the  Kulturkampf,  the  clause 
shutting  out  the  Jesuits  from  German  territory,  dis- 
appeared. The  Centre,  for  their  part,  realised 
that  if  they  did  not  wish  to  condemn  their  party 
to  an  implacable  and  in  the  long  run  barren  oppo- 
sition, they  must  recognise  the  accomplished  fact, 
frankly  accept  the  new  Empire,  and  rally  round  a 
national  policy.  They  consequently  succeeded  very 
cleverly  in  moderating  their  particularistic  tendencies, 
on  the  one  hand,  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  lay  them- 
selves open  to  the  suspicion  of  separatist  ambitions, 
and  on  the  other  hand  so  tempered  their  ultra- 
montanism  as  no  longer  to  give  any  grounds  for  the 
reproach  which  had  often  been  made  against  them 
of  being  an  unpatriotic  association.  It  is  possible  that 
this  evolution  was,  as  some  have  asserted,  facilitated 
by  the  direction  favourable  to  France  and  the  Dual 
Alliance  given  by  the  diplomacy  of  Rome  under  Leo 
XIII.  after  \890.  This  policy  perhaps  upset  a  number 
of  German  Catholics  and  led  them,  in  their  turn,  to 
take  up  a  more  independent  attitude  towards  Rome. 


246  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Under  these  circumstances  an  understanding  could 
be  cemented  between  the  Centre  Party  and  the  Im- 
perial Government.  And  this  understanding  was  all 
the  more  obvious  because,  from  the  political  point 
of  view,  the  Centre  had  not  and  could  not  have 
any  decided  policy.  We  have  already  seen  how 
Catholicism  assumed  a  character  at  once  Conserva- 
tive and  democratic,  aristocratic  and  popular.  The 
Centre  was,  therefore,  quite  logically  able  to  contain, 
with  a  view  to  common  action,  feudalists,  who  were 
fundamentally  Conservative  and  Liberals  with  very 
advanced  views.  It  always  avoided  accentuating  its 
attitude  too  violently  in  one  direction  or  the  other. 
At  a  certain  moment  in  1889  it  seemed  likely  that 
under  the  guidance  of  the  members  of  its  aristo- 
cratic section — Count  Ballestrem,  von  Huene,  von 
Schorlemer,  and  von  Frankenstein — the  Centre  would 
form  an  alliance  with  the  Right  for  the  purpose  of 
introducing  reforms  of  a  Conservative  nature  into 
educational  and  religious  legislation.  But  in  spite  of 
these  considerations,  from  the  economic  and  social 
point  of  view  the  Centre  had  no  intention  of  making 
common  cause  with  the  agrarian  feudalists.  And  in 
1893,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Lieber,  the  balance 
of  power  inclined  once  more  to  the  advantage  of  the 
Democratic  Party.  So  that  finally  the  sum-total 
of  divergent  forces,  which  were  grouped  in  the 
Catholic  Party,  resolved  itself  into  a  slightly  pro- 
gressive attitude. 

Thus  the  requirements  of  the  Centre  very  naturally 
fitted  in  with  those  of  the  Imperial  Government. 
In  fact,  the  central  authority  considered  that  its 
mission  was  precisely  the  establishment  of  a  sort 
of  court  of  arbitration  between  the  different  con- 
flicting parties   and  the   discovery   of   some  golden 


PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM  247 

mean  between  the  various  aspirations  which  appeared 
in  the  country.  What,  then,  could  be  more  natural 
than  for  it  to  seek  its  chief  support  in  a  party  whose 
line  of  conduct  was  already  precisely  the  result  of 
a  compromise  between  Conservative  and  democratic 
tendencies  ? 

The  Centre  knew  very  well  how  to  adapt  itself 
to  its  new  role.  A  party  of  implacable  opposition 
until  1881,  it  began  from  1881  to  1887  to  take  a 
part  in  public  affairs.  Then  from  1890  onwards  its 
share  grew  gradually  more  active  and  more  im- 
portant. From  1898  until  the  most  recent  elections 
the  President  of  the  Chamber  was  a  member  of  the 
Centre,  which  was  thus  officially  proclaimed  the 
most  influential  party  in  the  Reichstag.  And, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  does  possess  considerable 
authority.  Without  binding  itself  to  the  Govern- 
ment it  has,  nevertheless,  given  its  support  to  nearly 
all  the  great  legislative  measures  of  the  last  twenty- 
five  years — the  workmen's  insurance  acts,  the 
commercial  treaties  during  Capri vi's  ministry,  the 
Civil  Code,  and  the  laws  on  the  increase  of  the  navy, 
which  marked  the  evolution  of  Germany  towards  a 
universal  policy.  And  its  position  is  still  extremely 
strong  to-day.  "  Katholisch  ist  Trumyh  "  is  an  oft- 
quoted  saying.  The  Catholic  Party  has  been  able 
to  regard  itself,  of  recent  years,  as  the  arbiter  of 
the  political  situation  in  Germany.  For  the  moment, 
it  is  true,  it  finds  itself  once  again  thrown  into 
opposition.  The  terrible  rupture  between  the  Centre 
and  the  Government  over  colonial  questions  is  well 
known.  But  the  elections  immediately  furnished 
the  proof  that  the  hostility  of  the  Ministry  had 
in  no  way  shaken  the  credit  of  the  Catholic  Party 
among  the  electoral  body.     And  it  may  safely  be 


248  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

asserted,  moreover,  that  the  solidity  of  the  Liberal- 
Conservative  bloc,  upon  which  the  Government  at 
the  present  moment  relies,  only  inspires  on  the  whole 
a  fairly  limited  confidence.  It  therefore  seems 
certain  that  the  political  power  of  the  Centre  has 
not  received  any  mortal  blow,  and  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  its  regaining  in  a  more  or  less  immediate 
future  the  decisive  influence  it  still  possessed  a 
short  time  ago. 

The  almost  predominant  position  of  Catholicism 
in  an  Empire  which  is  chiefly  Protestant  will  seem 
less  paradoxical  if  we  examine  the  tendencies  of  the 
Emperor  William  II.  with  regard  to  religious  policy 
a  little  more  closely.  A  recent  historian  thought 
he  could  detect,  among  Protestants  as  well  as  among 
the  most  highly  educated  Catholics,  the  actual 
development  of  a  disposition  which  might  be  termed 
"  interdenominational,"  and  which  is  calculated,  if 
not  to  eradicate,  at  least  to  attenuate  the  differences 
either  between  the  various  shades  of  Protestantism 
or  between  Protestantism  and  Catholicism.  In  any 
case,  it  is  certain  that  it  is  in  this  direction  that  the 
private  religious  sympathies  of  the  Emperor  are 
directed.  His  Christianity,  which  is  exceedingly 
sincere  and  exceedingly  "  positive,"  is  strictly  inter- 
denominational. He  not  only  shows  for  Catholicism 
that  deferential  toleration  which  the  traditions  of 
the  Hohenzollern  impose  upon  him,  and  which  is 
natural  in  the  lord  of  an  Empire  living  under  a 
system  of  religious  "  equality,"  but  it  is  also  plain 
that  he  does  not  consider  himself  outside  the  pale 
of  Catholicism,  but  regards  himself,  inasmuch  as  he 
represents  German  Christianity,  as  a  sovereign  who 
is  both  Protestant  and  Catholic.  This  accounts  for 
the  attitude  of  William  II.  at  the  time  of  the  Chinese 


PROGRESS    OF    CATHOLICISM  249 

war,  to  which  he  tried  to  give  the  complexion  of  a 
Crusade  on  the  part  of  Christian  Europe  under  the 
leadership  of  Germany  against  the  yellow  race. 
Hence  his  courtesy  to  the  Holy  See,  his  three  visits 
to  Rome,  and  his  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land. 
It  is  quite  true  of  course  that  this  conduct  was  dic- 
tated by  political  considerations.  The  Emperor 
does  not  only  require  the  support  of  the  Centre  in 
the  House  for  his  parliamentary  policy.  He  also 
relies  upon  the  help  of  the  Catholics  to  subdue  the 
anti-German  agitation  in  Alsace  and  Poland.  He 
fully  appreciates  the  importance  of  the  support 
which  can  be  given  to  the  universal  policy  of  Germany 
by  an  international  power  like  the  Papacy,  especially 
in  questions  such  as  the  protectorate  over  Chris- 
tians in  the  East.  Nevertheless  the  sympathy  of 
William  II.  with  Catholicism  is  very  probably  not 
only  dictated  by  considerations  of  interest,  but 
has  its  deepest  roots  in  the  religious  nature  of  the 
Emperor  himself. 

Is  the  Catholic  world  inclined  to  respond  to  the 
imperial  advances  ?  Some  observers  think  they 
can  see  amongst  German  Catholics  signs  which 
indicate  a  new  development.  And  it  is  certain 
that  Catholicism  increased,  during  the  century, 
not  only  as  a  political,  but  also  as  a  spiritual  power. 
It  numbers  among  its  followers  philosophers  like 
Wilmann,  historians  like  Janssen  or  Willy  Pastor, 
and  poets  like  Weber.  It  is  a  matter  of  constantly 
recurring  controversy  to  decide  whether  Catholic 
culture  in  Germany  to-day  has  regained  or  not 
the  superiority  which,  by  the  common  consent  of 
all,  it  had  allowed  Protestant  culture  to  win.  It 
seems  certain  that  Catholics — and  as  representatives 
of  this  tendency  the  names  of  such  theologians  are 


250     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

quoted  as  Franz  Xaver  Kraus  of  Friburg,  Schell 
of  Wiirzburg,  Ehrhard  of  Strasburg,  or  historians 
like  Spahn  of  Strasburg — would  like  Catholicism  to 
rest  satisfied  with  the  strong  position  it  has  con- 
quered, and  to  relax  its  combative  attitude  a  little 
and  cease  aspiring  to  political  power,  in  order  to 
develop  itself  above  all  as  a  principle  of  the  inner 
life  and  as  a  religious  ideal  for  modern  man.  Is 
this  budding  opposition  between  political  clericalism 
and  religious  Catholicism  destined  to  increase  ? 
Will  it  be  favourable,  as  the  similar  evolution  of 
Protestant  pietism  was,  to  the  rise  of  that  inter- 
denominational Christianity  which  we  mentioned 
above  ?  It  is  quite  possible.  At  all  events,  it  is 
a  fact  that  the  "White  Pope"  and  the  "Black 
Pope,"  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  and  the  Head  of  the 
Jesuits,  are  to-day  notoriously  well  disposed  towards 
Germany,  and  inclined  to  march  in  unison  with  the 
Protestant  Empire. 

Is  this  a  fleeting  phase  in  the  history  of  the  Church, 
or  is  it,  on  the  contrary,  an  important  sign  of  the 
times  ?  Shall  we,  after  a  passing  truce,  see  the 
struggle  between  the  German  Empire  and  the  Black 
Internationalist  reopened  ?  Or  shall  we,  on  the 
contrary,  see  the  intimacy  between  the  Pope  and 
the  Emperor  become  again  as  close  as  it  was  in 
days  gone  by  ?  Shall  we,  perhaps,  witness  the 
two  great  Conservative  forces  working  in  concert 
for  the  solution  of  the  social  problem  by  means  of 
Christianity  ?  These  are  questions  which  in  the 
presence  of  certain  contemporary  events  one  may 
be  allowed  to  ask,  but  to  which  the  historian,  of 
course,  is  not  able  for  the  moment  to  give  any 
decisive  answer. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   PROTESTANT   SPIRIT 


Rothe,  a  Protestant  historian  of  the  reform  move- 
ment, has  described  the  evolution  of  Protestantism 
since  the  Peace  of  Westphalia  as  "  the  gradual 
decadence  of  Protestant  Christianity  as  a  Church, 
and  its  progress  as  a  moral  and  political  principle." 
And  it  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  history  of  the  Protes- 
tant spirit  is  infinitely  more  glorious  than  that  of 
the  Protestant  Church.  The  one  with  a  praiseworthy 
courage  attacked  the  chief  religious  problem  of  the 
'  present  day — the  reconciliation  of  the  traditional 
religion  of  the  past  with  rational  science.  It  is 
open  to  question  whether  it  has  finally  attained  its 
end  ;  it  is,  nevertheless,  difficult  to  deny  that,  in 
thejsourse  of  its  development,  it  has  accomplished 
a  great  work  in  the  domain  of  history,  philology,  and 
religious  psychology,  and  that  it  has  produced 
men  of  exceptionally  lofty  moral  attainments.  The 
Protestant  Church,  on  the  contrary,  holds  its  own 
with  difficulty  in  the  midst  of  almost  universal 
indifference,  and  its  decadence  is  so  obvious  that 
one  merely  wonders  whether  it  is  on  the  road  towards 
transformation  or  towards  evanescence.  Whence 
comes  this  contrast  between  the  destiny  of  the 
Protestant  spirit  and  that  of  the  Protestant  Church  ? 

^£f£  df^-G-iJZ&J.    251  0  £*-  - -^  ^^ 

I         L  fcujr.  %  ^  ^ 


252  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

This  is  the  problem  I  propose  to  examine  when  I 
put  the  question  :    What  is  the  Protestant  spirit  ? 

One  of  the  first  distinctive  characteristics  of  the 
Protestant  spirit  is  that  it_proclaims  on  principle 
the  absolute  independence  of  reason  and  faith  and 
also  the  necessary  harmony  between  them. 

It  would  be  well  to  point  out  here  its  fundamental 
antagonism  in  this  respect  to  Catholicism,  which 
denies  and  condemns  independent  science.  The 
system  of  St.  Thomas,  which  has  been  accepted  and 
revived  once  more  in  the  Germany  of  to-day  by 
the  neo-Thomistic  School,  is  a  combination  of  the 
two  great  factors  in  the  spiritual  life  of  the  Middle 
Ages — the  Catholic  faith  and  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle.  It  aims  at  proving  that  scientific  truth 
and  Catholic  dogma  do  not  clash,  but  are  comple- 
mentary to  each  other.  Reason,  by  means  of  its 
own  light,  realises,  as  the  Greek  philosophers  had 
done,  that  the  ultimate  cause  of  all  must  be  sought 
for  in  an  eternal  Reason — that  is  to  say,  in  God.  It 
also  demonstrates  that  although  the  specific  dogmas 
of  the  Church  cannot  be  derived  from  reason,  they 
are  at  all  events  not  contrary  to  it.  But  reason  alone 
is  not  the  only  source  of  Truth.  Above  human 
science  there  is  a  superior  truth  derived  from  divine 
inspiration— revelation,  which  is  the  criterion  of  all 
truth.  In  the  domain  of  faith  the  Church,  guided 
by  the  spirit  of  God,  is  the  supreme  authority.  And 
thus  faith  is  made  the  crown  and  coping-stone  of 
worldly  science ;  it  is  the  human  anticipation  of 
the  one  universal  truth  which  is  to  be  found  in 
God. 

Now  this  Thomistic  "  semi-rationalism,"  to  use 
Paulsen's  expression,  is  absolutism  in  its  strongest 
form.     The  principle  of  authority  may  have  been 


B*£ 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  253 

proclaimed  with  greater  insistence  by  some  of  St. 
Thomas's  successors.  Duns  Scotus  and  Occam  de- 
clared that  no  higher  truths  were  capable  of  demon- 
stration, and  that  reason  must  submit  exclusively 
and  without  reserve  to  the  authority  of  the  Church 
in  every  matter  touching  the  articles  of  faith.  But 
this  absolutist  and  ascetic  Radicalism  had  its  dangers. 
Reason,  if  violated  and  ill  treated,  runs  the  risk  of 
being  pushed  into  rebellion  by  the  very  excess  of  the 
despotism  to  which  it  is  subjected.  It  may  resign 
itself,  for  the  love  of  peace,  to  acts  of  external  sub- 
mission, but  it  will  emancipate  itself  internally  in  the 
depths  of  its  conscience,  and  wait  for  a  propitious 
moment  in  order  to  shake  off  the  yoke  that  weighs 
too  heavily  upon  it.  It  is  better  policy  to  give 
reason  some  partial  satisfaction  and  allow  it,  as  St. 
Thomas  did,  to  have  a  share  in  the  direction  of  life 
and  in  the  elaboration  of  a  general  idea  of  the  universe. 
By  accustoming  it  to  work  in  the  second  rank  under 
the  guidance  of  faith,  by  utilising  its  energies  whilst 
forcing  it  to  feel  at  every  moment  the  limits  beyond 
which  it  must  not  go,  it  is  cajoled  into  submission 
and  modesty,  and  made  to  play  the  part  of  an  active 
but  humble  servant,  a  diligent  and  docile  auxiliary 
to  the  Christian  Faith. 

As  early  as  Luther  Protestantism  opposed  the 
Thomistic  semi-rationalism  by  a  resolute  "  irration- 
alism."  Far  from  wishing  to  make  reason  work 
under  the  control  of  faith,  it  aimed,  on  the  contrary, 
at  separating  as  completely  as  possible  the  domain  of 
faith  from  that  of  reason,  and  at  a  radical  denial  of 
the  power  of  reason  in  religious  matters.  The  "  Word 
of  God  "  contained  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  was  the 
only  source  of  faith.  Now  in  relation  to  the  Bible 
the  work  of  reason  was  a  mere  formality — it  simply 


M, 


254  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

had  to  decide  the  exact  meaning  of  the  sacred  books. 
Theology  was  reduced  to  the  philological  interpreta- 
tion of  the  Bible.  As  for  the  rational  and  philo- 
sophical proof  of  religious  truth,  this  was  neither 
necessary  nor  possible.  Reason  left  to  itself  led  to 
a  mechanical  or  natural  explanation  of  the  Universe  ; 
the  supernatural  was  beyond  its  grasp.  Separation  was 
therefore  necessary.  Let  reason  abstain  from  opening 
its  mouth  upon  sacred  subjects  into  which  it  could  only 
bring  obscurity  and  confusion.  In  return  it  would  be 
lawful  for  it  to  explain  natural  phenomena  in  its  own 
way,  and  with  perfect  freedom  ;  faith  had  nothing  to 
do  with  physics  or  cosmology. 

The  great  religious  crisis  of  Luther's  life  resulted 
in  his  liberation  from  scholastic  theology  and  from 
semi-rationalism.  It  was,  indeed,  over  the  im- 
portant question  of  grace  that  reason  revealed  to  him 
its  powerlessness  in  matters  of  faith.  Reason,  if 
asked  what  was  necessary  to  salvation,  would,  in  fact, 
answer  that  it  must  be  won  by  works,  or  at  least  that 
good  intention  should  be  manifested  in  works,  in 
which  case  God  could  pardon  our  shortcomings. 
This  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  and  she  exhorted 
her  members  to  do  good  works.  But  Luther  had 
learnt  from  his  own  experience  that  the  soul  does  not 
attain  ease  by  this  method.  He  therefore  concluded 
that  reason  was  blind  with  regard  to  matters  of  faith, 
and  the  Church  blind  for  having  given  reason  so 
much  credit.  One  of  the  principal  causes  of  the 
corruption  of  the  Church  was,  accordingly,  in  his 
eyes,  the  intrusion  of  reason  into  the  realm  of  theology. 
The  Church  had  set  up  as  a  Professor  in  all  her  schools 
and  universities  Aristotle,  "  that  Greek  who  soweth 
illusion  in  all  men's  minds,  that  serpent  with  a  thou- 
sand heads  who  brought  forth  the  Scotists  and  the 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  255 

Thomists,  and  who  taught  the  vile  doctrine  that  the 
whole  of  justice  is  in  our  own  hearts." 

Protestant  irrationalism  therefore  resulted  in  an 
immense  simplification  of  theological  science.  There 
were  to  be  no  more  complicated  speculations  about 
the  existence,  the  personality,  and  the  attributes  of 
God,  or  on  "  natural  "  religion  and  morality,  but  men 
were  to  return  to  the  simple  faith  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity. Christ  did  not  give  humanity  a  theological 
system,  but  said  to  children  and  to  the  simple  hearted  : 
"  Believe  in  Me  and  ye  shall  be  saved."  Men  must 
once  again  forget  the  science  of  books  and  shut  their 
ears  to  the  babblings  of  the  Doctors  in  the  Temple 
and  the  Pharisees. 

Protestant  irrationalism  may  at  first  sight  appear 
even  more  hostile  than  Catholicism  to  the  development 
of  any  science  not  founded  upon  a  religious  basis. 
And  it  is,  indeed,  true  that  Luther  occasionally  hurled 
the  most  violent  anathemas  against  the  proud  pre- 
tensions of  reason,  and  that  until  quite  recent  times 
Protestantism  has  often  shown  itself  full  of  mistrust 
and  contempt  towards  the  modern  spirit  and  inde- 
pendent science. 

Nevertheless,  generally  speaking,  the  sharp  line  of 
demarcation  which  Protestantism  made  between  the 
domain  of  faith  and  that  of  reason  was  favourable  to 
the  development  of  science.  In  fact,  if  it  imposed 
silence  upon  reason  in  the  realm  of  faith,  it  left  it, 
on  the  other  hand,  absolutely  free  in  its  own  sphere, 
and  allowed  it  complete  liberty  in  its  attempt  to 
find  a  rational  explanation  for  natural  phenomena. 
The  Catholic  must  always  be  ready  to  make  his  reason 
bow  before  authority.  Reason  always  remains,  in 
his  eyes,  in  the  position  of  a  minor  under  the  tutelage 
of  faith  ;    he  regards  it  with  suspicion,  and  is  per- 


c? 


256  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

suaded  that  if  it  becomes  emancipated  and  is  allowed 
to  go  its  own  way,  it  will  separate  man  from  God, 
and  lead  him  to  pride  and  rebellion.  Very  different 
is  the  fundamental  conviction  of  Protestantism. 
Firmly  persuaded  that  religion  has  nothing  to  fear 
from  true  science,  that  reason  cannot  separate  man 
from  God  as  long  as  it  is  confined  to  its  proper  sphere, 
Protestantism  does  not  aim  at  exercising  any  control 
over  science,  but  leaves  it  entirely  free  to  develop  as 
it  pleases.  The  Protestant  does  not  ever  expect 
science  to  support  religious  truth  by  its  arguments, 
but  at  the  same  time  he  does  not  see  in  it  an  enemy 
against  whom  he  should  be  on  his  guard — a  source  of 
error  and  perdition.  He  holds  out  his  hand  to  it 
without  fear.  The  Protestant  is  allowed,  when  he 
takes  up  the  study  of  nature,  history,  or  philosophy, 
to  seek  the  natural  truth  without  bias  of  anv  sort,  and 
without  any  preconceived  desire  to  find  in  science  an 
apology  for  religion.  He  can  consequently  put  him- 
self into  the  position  most  favourable  to  scientific 
research.  The  conviction  that  the  unrestricted  re- 
search for  truth  cannot  possibly  be  bad  or  lead  to 
results  contrary  to  those  inculcated  by  religious  faith, 
is  one  of  the  ideas  which  showed  themselves  with 
ever  greater  clearness  in  the  breast  of  Protestantism, 
and  it  made  the  reconciliation  of  the  religion  of  the 
Gospel  with  that  of  science  an  easy  task. 

This  Protestant  irrationalism  is  formulated  with 
the  greatest  clarity,  and  pushed  to  its  extreme  logical 
conclusion  in  Schleiermacher's  celebrated  Discourses 
on  Religion. 

In  the  first  place,  no  one  has  recognised  more  frankly 
than  he  the  progress  of  modern  culture  and  the 
legitimacy  of  independent  science.  His  Discourses 
constitute   a   "  defence  "   of  religion.     His  apology, 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  257 

however,  is  never  made  at  the  expense  of  science  and 
secular  philosophy.  The  author  never  addresses  him- 
self to  the  "  despisers  of  religion  "  with  any  idea 
whatsoever  of  confuting  them  or  of  constraining  them 
to  abjure  their  heresies  and  submit  to  some  superior 
authority.  He  does  not  attack  either  their  meta- 
physics or  their  ethics,  nor  yet  their  conception  of  art. 
Schleiermacher  had  fully  assimilated  the  most  refined 
culture  of  his  day,  and  was  impregnated  by  the  ideas 
of  German  classicism  and  by  Kant  and  Goethe.  But 
in  his  opinion  this  culture  was  not  in  any  way  irre- 
concilable with  the  religious  spirit.  He  hurls  no 
anathemas  against  the  unbelievers  who  "  in  their 
sumptuous  abodes  have  no  other  household  gods 
but  the  maxims  of  the  sages  and  the  songs  of  the 
poets,"  who,  full  of  love  for  humanity  and  their  own 
country,  science  and  art,  have  no  room  left  in  their 
hearts  for  the  Beyond  and  for  Eternity.  He  only 
asks  of  them  one  thing,  and  that  is  "to  be  fully  and 
perfectly  cultured  in  their  disdain  of  religion."  In 
short,  he  was  persuaded  that  the  irreligion  of  these 
intellectualists  arose  not  from  their  positive  culture, 
but  simply  from  their  ignorance  of  the  true  nature  of 
religion,  and  consequently  from  a  defect  in  their  culture. 

And  this  defect  he  undertakes  to  remedy  by  giving 
an  exact  definition  of  the  domain  proper  to  religion, 
and  by  showing  that  it  is  absolutely  independent  of 
the  sphere  of  science  and  ethics. 

According  to  Schleiermacher  the  real  cause  of  the 
discredit  into  which  religion  had  fallen  was  precisely 
the  fact  that  this  definition  had  not  been  made 
with  sufficient  care.  Religion  was  very  rarely  to  be 
found  in  all  its  purity,  but  was  nearly  always  mixed 
up  with  alien  elements.  And  this  led  to  the  belief 
that  it  consisted  of  a  combination  of  certain  meta- 
17 


258  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

physical  conceptions — the  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
the  First  Cause  of  the  Universe — together  with 
certain  moral  principles — the  idea  of  the  law  of  duty. 
There  was  nothing  more  erroneous  than  the  concep- 
tion which  turned  religion  into  an  aggregate  of  hetero- 
geneous elements — a  mediocre  "  chrestomathy  for 
beginners."  Religion  had  nothing  to  do  with  either 
metaphysics  or  morality.  Metaphysics  were  the 
result  of  reflection,  the  image  of  the  Universe  re- 
flected in  our  conscious  thought.  Morality  appealed 
to  the  will,  it  aimed  at  extending  indefinitely  the 
Kingdom  of  Liberty  and  at  making  the  Universe  con- 
form to  the  law  it  laid  down.  Religion  was  neither 
thought  nor  action  :  it  was,  according  to  Schleier- 
macher,  contemplation  and  feeling.  The  moment  the 
religious  spirit  ceased  contemplating  and  feeling  and 
tried  to  define  the  nature  of  the  All,  it  could  give 
birth  only  toa"  vain  mythology,"  a  mass  of  dogmas, 
symbols,  poetical  images,  and  metaphysical  concepts, 
which  were  devoid  of  any  value  either  for  science  or 
for  the  religious  consciousness.  Religion,  moreover, 
could  not  be  a  substitute  for  morality.  Moral  law  in 
fact  should  regulate  all  our  actions,  and  we  should 
fulfil  it  with  perfect  consciousness,  with  calm  and 
reflexion.  Religious  feelings,  on  the  contrary,  should 
accompany  all  our  actions  like  sacred  music,  but 
it  should  not  guide  them.  "  Man  should  do  every- 
thing with  religion,  nothing  through  religion."  Per- 
fectly distinct  from  both  metaphysics  and  from 
morality,  religion  was  an  original  and  independent 
force,  which  possessed  in  every  heart  "  a  province 
which  belonged  to  it  alone,  and  in  which  it  was 
sovereign."  It  was,  together  with  speculative  reason 
and  practical  reason,  "  the  third  necessary  and  in- 
dispensable element  "  in  the  human  soul. 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  259 


II 

If  religion  and  science  have  each  their  distinctive 
sphere,  where  shall  we  find  the  domain  proper  to 
religion  ? 

When  one  tries  to  define  in  what  the  essence  of 
religion  in  the  eyes  of  the  Protestant  consists,  one 
finds  that  he  sees  in  it  above  all  an  intimate  experience, 
an  inner  flame  which  is  kindled  in  the  heart  of  the 
believer.  Religion  is  the  adhesion  of  the  man  in  his 
entirety  to  the  "  Word  of  God  "  and  to  the  Gospel 
Christ  came  to  bring.  It  is  a  mystic  impulse  of  the 
heart,  a  state  of  the  soul  which  requires  to  be  lived 
in  order  to  be  realised,  and  of  which  no  verbal  de- 
scription can  give  any  adequate  idea. 

This  inner  experience  was  the  great  event  in  the 
spiritual  life  of  Luther.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  in  his 
case  we  find  at  the  basis  of  his  doctrine  of  grace  and 
predestination  a  mystic  illumination  which  in  a  way 
formed  the  origin  of  his  whole  religious  life.  When, 
from  the  depths  of  his  cell  in  the  Augustinian  monas- 
tery at  Erfurt,  he  sought  in  the  agony  of  his  heart  for 
the  road  to  salvation,  it  was  not  through  reason  or 
philosophy,  nor  by  the  discovery  of  a  metaphysical 
theory  or  of  a  new  dogma  that  he  won  peace  for  his 
soul.  It  was  the  mystical  doctrines  of  his  friend 
Staupitz,  the  Vicar-General  of  the  Order  of  St. 
Augustine,  that  delivered  him  from  his  doubts.  He 
was  raised  to  a  direct  and  lively  faith  in  God  who 
had  promised  men  pardon  through  Christ,  and  gave 
it  to  them  in  spite  of  their  state  of  profound  and 
irremediable  degradation,  in  spite  of  the  radical  in- 
adequacy of  their  works,  by  virtue  of  a  free  and 
unmerited  gift,  without  their  being  able  to  claim  the 


260  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

smallest  share  in  this  work  of  grace.  The  immediate 
faith  in  the  God  of  pity,  the  living  consciousness  of 
possessing  Him — this  was  for  Luther  the  very  essence 
of  religion.  In  the  experience  of  the  Protestant, 
therefore,  faith  is  a  certain  state  of  feeling,  a  definite 
aggregate  of  subjective  emotions,  and  not  a  doctrine 
conceived  by  the  mind  or  a  sum-total  of  clearly 
apprehended  ideas  to  which  human  language  can 
give  precise  expression. 

From  the  historical  point  of  view  this  mystic  and 
individualistic  element  in  religion  shows  itself  more 
particularly  in  the  vast  number  of  very  different 
manifestations  which  appeared  from  the  seventeenth 
to  the  nineteenth  century  in  the  Protestant  as  well  as 
in  the  Catholic  world,  in  France  and  Holland,  England 
and  America,  Germany  and  Austria,  and  which  were 
designated  by  the  common  title  of  pietism. 

Pietism  was  the  ascetic  and  mystical  reaction  of 
religious  feeling  against  the  decadence  of  living  faith 
and  of  the  visible  Church.  It  was  a  rebellion  against 
the  scholastic  dogmatism  which  reduced  religion  to 
a  mass  of  theological  formulae,  and  stirred  up  irrita- 
ting and  barren  controversies  in  every  department. 
In  order  to  combat  this  parching  intellectualism  it 
endeavoured  to  stimulate  religious  feeling  and 
imagination.  It  also  condemned  the  dangerous 
alliance  of  the  modern  State  with  the  official  Church, 
and  denounced  the  survival  of  Popery  in  the  institu- 
tion of  State  Churches.  Abandoning  the  hope  of 
organising  the  whole  of  society  upon  the  basis  of 
Christianity,  it  founded,  either  within  or  in  opposition 
to  the  official  Church,  sects  and  pious  conventicles 
where,  in  a  narrower  circle,  a  more  sincere,  efficient 
and  intense  Christianity  might  at  least  flourish. 

The   pietists   thus   voluntarily   placed   themselves 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  261 

outside  the  pale  of  society,  but  they  did  not  exalt 
their  asceticism  to  a  principle,  or  hurl  forth  anathemas 
against   the   world.     They   explained   their   attitude 
as   a  temporary  necessity,  and  believed  they   were 
living  at  the  end  of  the  period  of  rebellion  against 
God,  which   preceded  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. 
And  in  their  struggle  against  scholasticism  in  dogma, 
and  against  the   corruption   of  the   official   Church, 
they  endeavoured  to  rekindle  the  flame  of  Christian 
mysticism  and  to  found  their  religion  upon  the  lively, 
intimate,  and   personal    experience   of   divine   grace. 
They  wanted  that  inner  illumination  felt  by  Luther 
and  the  great  mystics  to  be  renewed  in  every  Chris- 
tian.    And  finding   no   food   for   their   faith   in   the 
barren  theological  controversies   of  their  day,  they 
revived  the  taste  for  neo-Platonic  and  mystic  litera- 
ture, in  which  they  found  the  religious  psychology 
adapted  to  their   needs,   the   description   of  mystic 
ecstasy  and  of  gradual  absorption  into  the  bosom  of 
Divine  Unity.     They  plunged  into  the  study  of  St. 
Augustine    and    St.    Bernard,    into   the   writings    of 
anabaptists,  spiritualists,  and  theosophists,  in  order, 
by  contact  with  thought  of  this  nature,  to  exalt  their 
sense  of  religion. 

This  pietism  was  at  once  a  reactionary  and  a  pro- 
gressive movement — reactionary  because  it  tried  to 
revive  the  old  Christian  and  Protestant  asceticism  in 
all  its  rigour,  and  because  it  voluntarily  associated 
itself  with  orthodox  tendencies  in  matters  of  dogma  ; 
progressive,  inasmuch  as  it  developed  religious  sub- 
jectivism and  was  inclined  to  regard  faith,  not  as  the 
assent  of  a  body  of  men  to  certain  objective  truths, 
but  as  the  entirely  personal  experience  of  certain 
subjective  emotions  and  the  creation  of  the  indi- 
vidual conscience. 


262  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Born  amid  the  reformed  circles  of  Holland  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  imported  into  Germany 
during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries, 
pietism  developed  more  especially  among  the 
Lutheran  communities,  where,  under  Spen/er  and 
Francke,  it  became  one  of  the  most  important 
elements  in  the  religious  life  of  the  period.  Then 
during  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  it 
lost  ground.  Mystic  enthusiasm  slowly  died  out 
and  resolved  itself  into  moral  preaching  and  senti- 
mental piety.  It  thus  gradually  lost  its  essential 
characteristics  and  became  one  of  the  elements  of 
which  the  culture  based  upon  rationalism  prevalent 
during  the  era  of  enlightenment  was  formed. 

After  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  however, 
it  entered  upon  a  fresh  lease  of  life,  especially  among 
the  southern  Teutonic  peoples,  in  Wurtemburg, 
Alsace,  and  Switzerland.  At  that  time  it  welcomed 
to  its  breast  all  who  had  made  a  shipwreck  of  life — 
and  their  numbers  during  the  period  of  strife  and 
war  were  great,  especially  in  the  ranks  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, who  provided  many  recruits  for  the  con- 
venticles. From  that  moment  pietism  became  an 
active  factor  in  the  spiritual  life  of  Germany.  It  had 
its  own  writers,  its  own  philosophers,  and  saints, 
like  Hamann  and  Lavater,  Claudius  and  Jung  Still- 
ing, Oberlin  and  Pfeffel,  Jacobi  and  Novalis.  And 
as  a  matter  of  fact  it  displayed  some  offensive 
characteristics  at  this  juncture.  The  piety  of  these 
votaries  often  contained  an  element  of  moroseness, 
anxiety,  and  discontent  ;  it  was  narrow  and  had  no 
broad  outlook,  and  was  too  strictly  immured  within 
the  intimate  bounds  of  the  religious  life,  too  in- 
different to  public  affairs,  and  too  disdainful  of 
scientific  and  artistic  culture.     At  times  it  was  even 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  268 

intolerant.  A  small  group  of  ecstatic  pietists  and 
theosophists,  during  the  era  of  reaction  inaugurated 
by  Wcellner  in  the  reign  of  Frederick  William  IV., 
made  the  yoke  of  their  demoralising  despotism  weigh 
heavy  upon  the  necks  of  the  Prussian  clergy.  But 
intriguing  and  ambitious  pietism  was  still  the  excep- 
tion. Piety  was  not  yet  turned  into  a  career,  and 
people  did  not  frequent  conventicles  in  order  to 
insinuate  themselves  into  aristocratic  circles  and 
push  themselves  on  in  the  world.  Pietism  had  many 
points  in  common  with  reformed  Catholicism,  and 
like  it  combated  the  dogmatic  narrowness  and  the 
traditional  formalism  of  the  official  Church.  But  it 
also  held  out  its  hand  to  Pestalozzi  and  his  disciples, 
and  supported  them  in  the  great  work  of  popular 
education  and  the  material  and  moral  elevation  of 
the  lower  classes. 

Then  came  what  is  known  as  the  period  of  the 
"  Awakening."  It  seemed  as  though  the  temperature 
of  the  Protestant  spirit  had  risen  again.  Pietistic 
tendencies  mingled  in  a  thousand  different  ways 
with  the  rousing  of  national  feeling  and  with  the 
political  romanticism  of  the  restoration.  Hence 
arose  a  series  of  multifarious  and  diverse  currents  in 
the  breast  of  Protestantism.  Schleiermacher,  as  we 
have  just  seen,  founded  his  religion  upon  contempla- 
tion and  feeling,  and  led  pious  souls  to  approach 
as  near  to  Christ  as  possible,  in  order,  through  His 
mediation,  to  succeed  in  themselves  living  the 
fundamental  truths  of  faith  and  revelation.  This 
grade  of  pietism,  which  was  tinged  with  philosophy 
and  literature,  spread  more  particularly  in  the  north 
and  centre  of  Germany.  Neander  and  Tholuck  are 
considered  its  most  typical  representatives.  In 
other  quarters   a   simple  piety  based  upon  an  un- 


264  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

sophisticated  faith  in  the  Bible  was  spread  abroad. 
It  was  to  be  found  in  the  extreme  north,  at  Kiel, 
where  Claus  Harms  published  in  1817,  in  honour  of 
the  anniversary  of  the  Reformation,  ninety-five 
theses  against  the  modern  Antichrist — that  is  to  say, 
Reason  elevated  to  the  position  of  an  infallible  Pope. 
And  similarly  in  Swabia  and  Bavaria  there  flourished 
an  interdenominational  pietism,  in  which  the  lay 
element  predominated,  and  whose  members  held 
communion  by  personal  faith  in  Jesus,  the  divine 
Saviour  of  men.  The  theological  faculties  of  Tubin- 
gen and  Erlangen,  under  Beck,  Thomasius,  and 
Hoffmann,  were  instrumental  in  spreading  this 
particular  form  of  Protestantism.  In  other  quarters 
pietism  allied  itself  with  political  romanticism,  it 
spread  among  the  aristocracy  and  the  higher  Civil 
Service,  and  even  ended  by  ascending  the  throne  in 
the  person  of  Frederick  William  IV.  Under  this 
form  we  find  it  holding  out  its  hand  to  orthodoxy, 
founding  belief  in  revelation  and  the  Scriptures 
upon  the  intimate  personal  experience  of  conversion 
through  the  Bible,  and  thus  restoring  the  divine 
character  of  Holy  Writ  and  favouring  a  conservative 
exegesis  of  the  sacred  text.  This  orthodox  pietism, 
which  was  ambitious  and  militant,  tried  to  impose  its 
doctrine  upon  university  professors  and  the  clergy, 
and  aimed  at  exercising  a  predominating  influence 
over  the  official  Church. 

About  1848,  however,  rationalist  ideas  once  more 
gradually  took  the  offensive ;  they  grew  stronger 
and  stronger,  and  even  at  one  moment  seemed  upon 
the  point  of  getting  the  upper  hand  in  the  sphere  of 
politics.  From  that  time  the  importance  of  pietism 
as  a  factor  in  the  spiritual  life  of  Germany  also  began 
to   decline,     Its   alliance    with    orthodoxy    became 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  265 

closer.  In  fact,  among  the  professing  Protestants  of 
the  official  Church  there  existed  a  form  of  religion 
which  was  pietistic  on  account  of  its  subjective 
character  and  orthodox  because  of  the  positive 
nature  of  the  doctrines  it  professed.  But  on  becom- 
ing an  integral  portion  of  official  Protestantism, 
pietism  also  found  itself  involved  in  the  decline  of 
the  State  Church.  It  lost  its  practical  influence  over 
men's  minds  in  proportion  as  it  accentuated  the  re- 
actionary tendency,  the  seeds  of  which  it  carried 
from  its  birth. 

The  pietistic  spirit,  at  all  events,  is  still  to  be 
found  to-day,  in  quite  different  social  strata,  in  which 
even  now  it  gives  proofs  of  vitality.  Nearly  every- 
where the  dissenting  sects  formed  in  England  or 
America  by  pietism — the  Methodists,  the  Irvingites, 
the  Memnonites,  the  Baptists,  etc. — carry  on  an 
ardent  propaganda,  and  form  in  almost  all  parts  of 
the  world  conventicles  which  sometimes  live  in  good 
harmony  with  the  official  Church,  but  more  often 
maintain  a  defiant  and  critical  attitude  towards  the 
State  clergy,  and  seduce  from  public  worship  pre- 
cisely those  natures  in  whom  the  need  for  religion  is 
most  strongly  developed.  Hence  arose  that  popular 
form  of  pietism  which  now  draws  its  recruits  by 
preference  from  the  lower  social  strata  and  harms 
the  orthodox  pietism  of  the  public  church.  And  the 
official  clergy  are  filled  with .  anxiety  by  this  con- 
dition of  things  without,  however,  being  able  to 
protest  overmuch.  For  these  very  sects  and  com- 
munities, which  are  independent  and  separatist,  form 
an  exceedingly  ardent  centre  of  Christian  activity, 
and  have  given  birth  to  a  number  of  charitable 
works,  teaching  institutions,  and  home  and  foreign 
missions,  which  do  honour  to  Protestantism, 


266  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

We  thus  see,  in  rough  outline,  the  part  which 
pietism  played  in  the  evolution  of  Protestantism. 
It  kept  alive  the  religious  spirit  by  insisting  upon 
the  necessity  for  every  Christian  to  feel  personally 
in  his  own  heart  that  mystic  impulse  which  raises 
man  to  God,  and  which  was  to  be  found  at  the  be- 
ginning of  Luther's  religious  life.  By  the  very  fact 
that  it  founded  religion  upon  individual  experience,  it 
also  tended  to  separate  itself  from  the  State  Church — 
the  official  body  which  demanded  from  its  members 
merely  the  external  adherence  to  a  certain  creed 
and  gave  shelter  haphazard  to  all  those  who  sub- 
scribed to  its  doctrines,  the  religious  and  the  luke- 
warm alike,  the  pious  and  the  indifferent.  Pietism 
formed  conventicles  in  opposition  to  the  Church, 
limited  groups  and  guilds  composed  by  the  free 
membership  of  believers  who  lived  in  a  real  com- 
munion of  feeling,  and  acted  as  a  mutual  control 
upon  each  other.  Thus  pietism  also  frequently 
appeared  as  a  conservative  force.  In  order  to 
satisfy  an  exceedingly  intense  religious  need  it 
willingly  inclined  to  the  restoration  of  the  positive 
forms  of  the  old  Protestantism,  and  made  itself  an 
ally  and  accomplice  of  the  orthodoxy  of  which,  in 
other  respects,  it  nevertheless  combated  the  for- 
malist spirit  and  dogmatic  dryness.  And  sometimes 
it  presented  itself  in  an  aspect  which  astonished 
and  shocked  modern  feeling,  manifesting  itself  as 
a  strict,  narrow,  and  bitter  piety,  hostile  to  the 
world  and  wrapped  up  in  itself,  a  blind  and  intolerant 
fanaticism,  a  mystic  ecstasy  which  became  inflamed 
to  hysteria  and  nervous  disorder,  an  extravagant 
form  of  superstition. 

The  part  which  pietism  played  in  the  heart  of 
Protestantism   has   been   compared   to   that   of   the 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  267 

monastic  orders  in  Catholicism.  Like  these  in- 
stitutions it  was  constantly  reminding  the  Church 
of  her  spiritual  mission.  But  whilst  the  monasteries 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  world  in  ascetic  re- 
nunciation, and  at  the  same  time  enrolled  themselves 
in  the  ranks  of  the  worldly  hierarchy  of  Catholicism, 
the  pietists,  for  their  part,  did  not  bow  their  in- 
dividualism to  any  compromise,  but  continued, 
although  they  too  were  animated  by  the  spirit  of 
asceticism,  to  act  in  accordance  with  their  age, 
and  on  their  age.  Thus  pietism  was  an  independent 
spiritual  force  which  periodically  revived  religious 
subjectivism  in  the  breast  of  Protestantism,  con- 
stantly created  new  religious  sects  and  rekindled 
lively  piety  in  the  old  ones.  It  was  an  influence 
which  acted  more  particularly  upon  the  lowest 
strata  of  the  nation,  and  satisfied  their  need  of 
religious  excitement.  For  this  reason,  also,  it  was 
popular  among  the  feudalists,  who  wished  to  keep 
religion  alive  among  the  people. 

But  it  was  something  more  than  all  this.  It  was 
in  fact  the  really  living  principle  of  Protestant 
religiosity  in  its  purest  form.  It  was  the  experiences 
of  pietism  which  made  possible,  in  the  breast  of 
the  enfranchised  Protestant  conscience,  the  modern 
science  of  religious  psychology.  "  All  the  theories," 
says  Troeltsch,  ' '  which  represent  religion  as  being 
essentially  an  emotion,  a  presentiment,  poetry,  a 
symbolical  representation  of  ideas  which  are  active 
in  the  subconscious  depths  of  human  nature,  a 
practical  and  active  conviction,  and  a  general  con- 
dition of  the  soul— in  short,  the  most  precious  results 
of  the  modern  science  of  religion  have  their  root 
in  Radical  pietism."  It  was  upon  pietism  that 
Lessing  built  his  foundations  when  he  realised  that 


268  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

feeling  was  the  essence  of  religion  and  conceived  the 
idea  of  his    "  eternal    Gospel,"  which   was    destined 
to   take   the    place   of   religion   based   upon    dogma 
and  authority.     The  religion  of  Kant  was  also,  in 
the  last  instance,  pietistic  in  postulating  as  a  funda- 
mental truth  the   "  existence   of  practical   reason," 
and    thus    founding    religion    upon    the    persevering 
effort  of  the  Will  to  triumph  over  evil  and  be  born 
again.     Similarly  in  the  religion  of  Herder,   Jacobi, 
and    Goethe — who   were    romanticists  in  their  pro- 
testation  against   the    dryness    of    rationalism    and 
in  the  insistence   with  which  they  cast  into  relief 
the   emotional,  mystical,  and    voluntary  element  in 
religion,  and  the  affinity  between  poetry  and  religion 
— it  is  easy  to  see  the  influence  of  pietism.     And  it 
appears  most  clearly   in  the  doctrines  of   Schleier- 
macher,  who  defined  religion  as  a  mystic  intuition 
of  God,   "  a  sense  and  love  of  the  Infinite,"   as  a 
vision  of  the  universe  and  the  emotion  which  accom- 
panies this  vision.     It  still  lives  to-day  in  the  breasts 
of    many    German    Protestants,    and    even    among 
those  of  them  who  have  no  positive  faith,  but  in 
whom  the  need  for  religion  survives  in  the  shape  of 
a  yearning  of  the  heart  towards  the  divine  principle 
in  the  world,  and  a  more  or  less  joyous  and  confident 
adhesion  to  a  universal  order. 


Ill 

The  subjective  and  mystical  character  of  the 
Protestant  religion  had  as  its  direct  consequence 
the  gradual  crumbling  away  of  Christian  dogma. 

For  Catholics  religious  truth  is  one,  positive  and 
unchanging.  It  has  no  longer  to  be  discovered,  but 
was    found    long  ago,   and    received    expression    in 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  269 

dogma,  whilst  the  Church's  mission  consists  in  pre- 
serving this  dogma  in  all  its  purity,  and  fighting 
heresy  wherever  it  appears.  Dogma,  in  the  eyes 
of  Catholics,  is  an  aggregate  of  doctrines  which 
are  objectively  true,  which  are  external  to  the  spirit 
of  the  believer  and  humbly  received  by  him — an 
organic  whole,  a  synthesis  which  is  either  accepted 
or  rejected  en  bloc,  but  which  allows  of  no  discussion 
in  detail  or  any  arbitrary  eliminations. 

Now  Luther  resolutely  repudiated  Catholic  dogma. 
Determined  to  bring  back  religion  to  its  essential 
principle,  that  mystic  impulse  of  the  soul  illuminated 
by  the  vision  of  the  Divine,  he  was  firmly  resolved 
to  destroy  the  edifice  of  scholastic  theology,  and 
put  an  end  to  dogmatic  intellectualism  in  order 
to  substitute  in  its  place  "  the  Word  of  God  "  and 
the  "  Gospel  "  of  Jesus  alone.  It  is  true  that  Luther 
found  great  difficulty  in  establishing  a  clear  dis- 
tinction between  what  was  "  Gospel "  and  what 
was  "  dogma."  And  he  ended — as  we  shall  see 
later  on — in  laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  dog- 
matism almost  as  complicated  and  intolerant  as  the 
old  one.  But  he  had,  nevertheless,  levied  a  very 
decisive  blow  at  the  ancient  edifice  of  orthodoxy — 
and  the  work  of  demolition  was  carried  on  after 
his  day.  In  fact,  it  was  quite  impossible  for  Protes- 
tantism, in  consistency  with  its  own  principles,  to 
support  the  idea  of  an  intangible  dogma.  If  religion 
is  essentially  a  state  of  the  soul,  an  intimate  subjective 
experience,  it  is  evident  that  the  categories  "  true  ' 
and  "  false "  have  no  application  in  matters  of 
faith.  A  man  either  feels  or  does  not  feel  a  state 
of  the  soul,  an  emotion  ;  but  such  a  state  of  the 
soul  or  such  an  emotion  is  neither  "true"  nor  "false," 
and  cannot  be  brought  home  to  the  outsider.     Dogmas 


270  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

necessarily  give  only  an  inadequate  and  approximate 
and  consequently  provisional  and  changeable  inter- 
pretation of  the  intimate,  subjective  experiences 
which  constitute  religion.  From  the  Protestant 
point  of  view,  therefore,  it  is  illusory  and  iniquitous 
to  gauge  the  "  religion  "  of  a  believer  by  his  accept- 
ance of  such  and  such  a  dogma — that  is  to  say,  by 
metaphysical  and  historical  conceptions  which 
belong  to  the  realm  of  reason.  Religion  has  its 
roots,  not  in  the  domain  of  intelligence  and  know- 
ledge, but  in  a  much  more  profound  region  of  the 
human  soul. 

As  early  as   the    end    of   the   eighteenth   century 
the  progress  towards  subjectivism  had   reached  its 
furthest    limits.     Schleiermacher    refused    to    admit 
that    a    dogma,    or    any    metaphysical     conception, 
could  be  an  essential  element  of  religion.     It  may 
be  argued  that  faith  in  the  Supernatural  is  necessary 
in  the  believer.     But  every  contingent  phenomenon 
is  either     '  miraculous  "    or  not,   according  to   the 
point  of  view  from  which  it  is  regarded,  whether  it 
is  considered  in  relation  to   the  Infinite  or    in  con- 
nection with  the  finite  world,  with  the  eyes  of  the 
religious  or  of  the  scientific  man.     Or  perhaps  faith 
in  the  Bible  is  a  prerequisite  ?     But  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures,  far  from  being  a  code  of  intangible  truths, 
form    "  merely    a    mausoleum    of    religion,    a    com- 
memorative   monument    recording    the    fact    that 
there  once  existed  a  powerful  spirit  which  no  longer 
lives    to-day."     Even    the    belief    in    God    and    the 
immortality  of  the  soul  have  not,  from  the  religious 
point   of   view,    the   importance   which   is   generally 
attributed  to  them,  and  an  "  atheist  "  may  have  a 
profoundly  religious  nature,  as,  for  instance,  Spinoza, 
in    whom    Schleiermacher    venerated    one    of     the 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  271 

sublimest  spirits,  most  thoroughly  permeated  with 
the  divine,  that  has  ever  existed.  One  should  even 
go  further.  A  religion,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  vision 
of  the  Universe,  is  an  absolutely  individual  ex- 
perience. No  man  can  boast  of  possessing  in  himself 
alone  the  whole  of  religious  truth.  Religion  is  neces- 
sarily "  infinite  "  and  is  the  sum-total  of  all  private 
religious  experiences.  Every  one  must  feel  conscious 
of  the  fact  that  his  religion  is  only  a  fraction  of  the 
All,  and  respect  the  originality  of  every  soul  that 
has  understood  the  language  of  the  Infinite.  True 
religion,  therefore,  is  absolutely  tolerant,  as  "in 
the  bosom  of  the  Infinite  all  things  co-exist  side  by 
side  in  peace  ;    all  is  one  and  all  is  true." 

And  just  as  Protestantism  eliminated  from  religion 
all  obligatory  belief  in  a  metaphysical  idea,  it  also 
gradually  stripped  Christianity  of  its  historical 
elements. 

Here  once  again  Luther  set  the  example.  By 
allotting  to  Reason  the  task  of  interpreting  the  Bible 
and  of  fixing  its  "  true  "  meaning,  and  by  thus 
instituting  the  critical  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
he  threw  open  to  human  Reason  an  enormous  field 
for  research.  But  this  critical  examination  of  the 
Bible,  prolonged  through  centuries,  from  Reimarus 
and  Lessing  to  Strauss  and  Harnack,  has  led  in  the 
present  day  to  results  which  Luther  certainly  never 
anticipated,  and  which  would  have  filled  him  with 
horror  if  he  had  foreseen  them,  but  which  are  in 
themselves  in  no  way  contradictory  to  the  spirit 
of  Protestantism.  In  fact,  from  the  moment  that 
the  Reformation  recognised  the  right  of  Reason  to 
submit  the  sacred  text  to  its  investigation,  it  also 
became  impossible  for  it  to  assign  any  limits  to  these 
researches,   or  to  fix  the  point  at  which  criticism 


272  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

ceased  to  be  "  Protestant,"  and  to  pass  sentence  on 
principle  against  the  results  of  that  philological 
inquiry  which  it  had  itself  provoked. 

From  the  eighteenth  century  onwards,  the  criticism 
of  the  Bible  boldly  attacked  the  belief  in  the  super- 
natural. In  fact,  the  rationalism  of  the  era  of  en- 
lightenment was  convinced  that  science  and  faith 
must  inevitably  agree.  Philosophy  and  science  led 
the  man  of  learning  to  a  "  natural  religion,"  which 
postulated  the  existence  of  a  God,  who  was  omni- 
potently good,  powerful  and  wise,  as  the  creator 
of  the  Universe.  Consequently  all  well-conducted 
criticism  of  the  Bible  must  necessarily  lead  to  the  same 
results.  Theologians,  therefore,  tried  to  eliminate 
from  the  Bible  everything  that  was  irrational.  For 
instance,  they  eradicated  the  miracles,  which  they 
explained  away  as  illusions  or  pious  frauds.  They 
denied  the  divinity  of  Christ,  Whom  they  no  longer 
regarded  as  a  God,  but  as  a  superior  man,  Who  enunci- 
ated the  moral  law  and  deserved  to  have  Christianity 
called  after  Him,  though  He  Himself  never  had  any 
such  pretension.  In  short,  they  reduced  the  moral 
teaching  of  Christianity  to  a  reasoned  and  somewhat 
prosaic  moral  eudsemonism.  The  supernatural  was 
thus  eliminated  from  Holy  Scripture  by  means  of 
"  natural  "  explanations,  which  were  often,  it  is  true, 
puerile  and  devoid  of  all  semblance  of  probability. 

Religious  psychology  and  the  criticism  of  the 
rationalists  were  too  inadequate  for  their  interpreta- 
tion of  the  Bible  to  survive  for  long.  But  the  progress 
of  the  historical  and  philological  sciences  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  resulted  in  the  birth  of  a  Biblical 
criticism,  which  was  infinitely  more  methodical,  better 
informed,  and  more  radical  in  its  conclusions  than  the 
rationalistic  one  had  been. 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT 


273 


The  criticism  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  elimi- 
nated the  supernatural  element  from  the  Bible,  but 
it  did  not  deny  in  any  comprehensive  manner  that 
the    Bible    records    provided    authentic    sources    of 
knowledge  which  brought   to  our  consciousness  an 
aggregate  of  facts  which  were  historically  true.     It 
was  at  this  point  that  the  higher  criticism  of  the 
nineteenth  century   stepped  in  to  cast  doubt   pre- 
cisely upon  the  historical   value  of   the  Scriptures. 
Strauss,  followed  by  Baur  and  the  Tubingen  School, 
saw   in   the   Biblical  stories  not   historical  records, 
but  myths.      Regarded  as  historical  facts,   all   the 
positive    data    upon    which    the    traditional    faith 
was  based — the   supernatural    birth    of    Jesus,    His 
miracles,  His  resurrection,  and  His   ascension   into 
heaven — were    stripped    of   all   likelihood.     In   fact, 
they  depicted  for  us,  not  the  historical  Jesus,  but  the 
Christ  of   sacred    legend,    and  were  not  the  correct 
records  of  chroniclers,  but  the  products  of  the  religious 
imagination  and  the  poetic  myths  brought  forth  by 
the  unconsciously  creative  fancy  of  the  people.     The 
Bible  narratives  about  the  founder  of  Christianity 
were  simply  legends  which  had  their  birth  in  the 
primitive    Christian    community,    and    among    the 
various  groups  which  sprang  from  it,  and  they  clothed 
in  a  pseudo-historical  cloak  the  ideas  and  the  senti- 
ments which  were  active  in  these  circles.     The  Gospel 
stories  did  not  form  a  biography  of  Jesus,  but  were  a 
sort  of  legendary  poem  breathing  forth  the  desire 
which  the  primitive  community  felt  to  glorify  their 
founder  and  the  need  they  experienced  of  seeing  the 
idea  of  the  Messiah  realised.     Thus  the  Bible,  in  which 
the  old  believers  saw  a  sacred  book  inspired  by  God 
Himself,  became  in  the  eyes  of  modern  critics  a  human 
document,  in  which  were  reflected  the  thoughts,  the 
18 


Qr 


274  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

passions,  and  the  hopes  of  a  body  of  enthusiasts  who 
formed  the  primitive  Church. 

Thus  the  progress  of  religion  towards  subjectivism 
was  completed.  The  historical  data  of  Christianity- 
ceased,  for  the  Protestant,  to  contain  objective  facts, 
which  every  Christian  must  accept.  They  were 
simply  the  poetical  description  of  the  religious  experi- 
ences of  the  first  believers.  They  too  were  the  pro- 
duct of  religious  subjectivism,  the  figurative  expres- 
sion of  certain  states  of  the  soul.  In  the  present,  as 
in  the  past,  the  essence  of  religion  was  the  individual 
impulse  towards  the  Divine.  Christian  history,  or, 
more  properly  speaking,  Christian  legend  was,  like 
dogma,  merely  a  provisional  and  imperfect  transcript 
of  the  Christian  conscience.  To  reconstruct  by  the 
light  of  the  Gospel  story  the  actual  facts  which  gave 
them  birth  and  the  real  life  of  Jesus,  to  find  out  history 
from  the  myth,  which  alone  had  come  down  to  us, 
to  unravel  from  all  these  subjective  testimonies  the 
consciousness  which  Jesus  possessed  of  Himself — das 
Selbsibewusstein  Jesu — became  a  hazardous  enter- 
prise, a  problem  which  had  a  great  attraction  for 
Protestant  critics,  from  Strauss  to  our  own  day,  but 
of  which  they  realised  the  insurmountable  difficulties 
ever  more  clearly.  So  much  was  this  the  case  that 
a  Catholic  historian  of  Protestantism,  after  pointing 
out  the  necessarily  subjective  character  of  these 
attempts,  and  the  divergencies  which  existed  between 
them,  was  able  to  wonder,  without  appearing  para- 
doxical, whether  Christ  had  not  once  more  become  for 
the  scientific  Germany  of  to-day  that  which  He  was 
to  the  Athenians  in  the  time  of  St.  Paul — "  The 
Unknown  God  !  " 

At  the  same  time  as  Protestantism,  by  reducing 
religion  to  the  rank  of  a  mere  matter  of  experience, 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  275 

cast  doubt  upon  the  objective  nature  of  Christianity, 
it  also  called  in  question  its  absolute  character. 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  as  well  as  in  primitive  Pro- 
testantism, there  was  only  one  true  religion  com- 
municated to  men  by  the  miracle  of  divine  revelation, 
which  alone  was  capable  of  securing  their  salvation. 
Paganism  was  not  a  religion,  but  an  error  which  had 
its  source  in  original  sin,  and  was  punished  by  eternal 
damnation.  Religion,  therefore,  was  one  and  abso- 
lute, and  outside  its  pale  there  was  no  possible  salva- 
tion for  men.  The  very  notion  of  a  history  of  religions, 
the  attempt  to  conceive  a  general  idea  of  "  religion," 
and  to  explain  by  means  of  this  idea  the  genesis  of 
the  various  religious  conceptions  of  humanity,  would 
have  been  regarded  as  impious,  and  those  who 
actually  did  attempt  it,  like  Pic  de  la  Miranclole  or 
Erasmus,  were  the  objects  of  general  reprobation. 

And  thus,  about  the  eighteenth  century,  there 
gradually  came  into  existence,  thanks  to  the  efforts 
of  English  and  French  thinkers  especially,  a  science 
of  religion  which  made  a  comparative  study  of  the 
various  religious  manifestations,  from  Christianity 
to  the  grossest  superstitions  of  the  most  primitive 
savages,  which  endeavoured  to  unravel  the  laws 
governing  this  complex  aggregate  of  phenomena 
and  set  itself  the  task  of  tracing  the  genesis  of  the 
"  religious  sense  "  of  humanity.  This  science  was 
based,  not  upon  the  Bible  and  the  tradition  of  the 
Church,  but  upon  the  inner  experiences  by  which 
the  religious  life  is  revealed.  It  regarded  religious 
phenomena  as  a  particular  subdivision  of  psychic 
phenomena  as  a  whole.  It  considered  religious  faith 
in  the  light  of  a  spiritual  activity,  and  drew  up  a 
classification  of  the  objective  contents  of  this  faith 
and  the  positive  dogma  the  "  truth  "  of  which  was 


276  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

precisely  the  problematical  point.  In  this  way  it 
enlarged  our  religious  horizon  considerably.  The 
modern  man  gradually  learnt  to  realise  the  small 
compass  of  Christianity  in  relation  to  humanity  as  a 
whole,  and  he  accustomed  himself  to  regard  the 
various  religions  of  mankind  as  identical  in  principle, 
and  to  utilise  the  same  critical  methods  in  the  study 
of  their  myths  and  documents.  He  ceased  to  con- 
sider religion  as  an  unchangeable  and  positive 
"  truth."  On  the  contrary,  he  acknowledged  that 
religion  was  a  thing  which  varied  in  different  times 
and  places,  and  which  was  subjected,  like  every 
other  manifestation  of  life,  to  the  great  law  of  evolu- 
tion. After  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
science  of  religion  resulted  in  two  opposing  theories, 
which  grew  more  and  more  divergent.     Some  critics, 

A  like  Hume,  saw  in  religious  phenomena  a  character- 
istic manifestation  of  primitive  human  thought ; 
they  believed  that  religions  were  begotten  by  fear 
or  by  hope,  and  were  exceedingly  sceptical  with 
respect  to  the  "  truth  "  of  their  positive  contents. 
From  this  theory  there  was  derived,  during  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  positivist  idea  of  the  three  epochs 
of  humanity — the  religious,  the  metaphysical,  and  the 
scientific  epochs.  This  hypothesis,  which  resulted  in 
the  more  or  less  open  denial  of  the  eternal  value 
either  of  positive  religions  or  of  religious  feeling  in 

r  -a  general,  was  fundamentally  opposed  to  that  German 
idealism  which  regarded  the  evolution  of  the  religious 
sense  as  the  central  factor  of  psychical  development 
as  a  whole,  and  even  for  some  time  agreed  with  Hegel 
in  discerning  in  Christianity  the  highest  form  and  the 
perfect  bloom  of  the  religious  idea. 

From  that  moment  Protestantism  was  confronted 
with   a  grave   problem.     To   what  extent   could   it 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  277 

assimilate  the  results  of  the  science  of  religion  ?  To 
what  extent  could  it  sacrifice  the  "  absolute  "  char- 
acter of  religious  truth  ? 

By  virtue  of  its  own  fundamental  principles,  Pro- 
testantism was  bound  to  be  accommodating  with 
respect  to  these  new  ideas.  And  as  a  matter  of  fact 
this  was  perfectly  possible.  In  short,  Protestantism 
tended,  as  we  have  already  seen,  to  minimise  the 
dogmatic  and  historical  elements  of  religion  as  much 
as  possible.  By  the  distinction  it  made  between  the 
Christianity  of  the  Church  and  the  "  Christianity  of 
Christ,"  by  the  contrast  it  established  between  the 
teaching  of  St.  Paul  and  that  of  Jesus,  and  by  the 
final  reduction  of  the  essence  of  Christianity  to  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  alone,  it  ended  by  so  simplifying 
the  principle  of  that  faith  as  to  render  it  possible  to 
identify  it  with  the  fundamental  principle  of  morality 
and  religion.  The  evolution  of  the  Christian  con- 
science thus  seemed  the  final  stage  in  the  evolution 
of  the  religious  sense  in  the  heart  of  mankind. 

And  inasmuch  as  Schleiermacher  admitted  religious 
subjectivism,  so  also  did  he  recognise  that  Chris- 
tianity was  not  the  only  religion,  and  that,  moreover, 
it  was  not  fixed  once  and  for  all.  There  were  as 
many  religions  as  there  were  original  intuitions  re- 
garding the  universe  and  the  Infinite.  Religion  in 
itself  was  the  aggregate  of  all  the  possible  forms  of 
positive  religion.  And  similarly  no  positive  religion 
could  be  the  whole  of  religion — Christianity  not  ex- 
cepted. The  intuition  upon  which  it  was  based  was 
on  the  one  hand  the  eternal  contrast  between  the 
Finite  and  the  Infinite,  between  imperfect  and  sinful 
man  and  God,  and  on  the  other  hand  the  eternal  act 
of  mediation  between  the  Finite  and  Infinite,  salvation 
by  means  of  a  number  of  mediators  between  the  God- 


278  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

head  and  man  the  sinner.  Christianity  was,  there- 
fore, in  a  certain  sense,  an  eternal  religion.  Having 
as  its  particular  object  the  very  history  of  religion, 
the  succession  of  the  religious  intuitions  of  the  Uni- 
verse, it  was  a  faith  which  was  capable  of  infinite 
development,  a  "  potential  religion,"  a  "  religion  of 
religions."  But  Schleiermacher  expressly  stated  that 
although  Christ  was  one  admirable  mediator  among 
many,  He  was  not  the  only  possible  mediator.  The 
Christian  idea  continued  to  develop  after  Christ ;  it 
gave  birth  to  new  religious  ideas,  and  would  do  so 
again.  But  more  than  that  ;  it  might  even  become 
superfluous  at  a  time  when  there  would  no  longer  be 
any  need  for  a  mediator  between  the  Finite  and  the 
Infinite,  and  when  religious  truth  would  shine  forth 
upon  all  men  alike.  But  he  also  thought  that, 
practically  speaking,  this  state  of  holiness  was  still 
in  the  dim  distance,  and  that,  in  any  case,  it  could 
not  last  ;  corruption  would  return  unceasingly,  and 
consequently  the  necessity  for  redemption  would 
always  make  itself  felt  anew.  Thus  each  epoch  in 
the  life  of  mankind  would  be  a  sort  of  "  palingenesis 
of  Christianity,"  which  from  time  to  time  would  re- 
appear in  a  constantly  more  spiritualised  form. 

We  now  have  a  clear  conception  of  the  direction 
in  which  Protestantism  evolved.  It  tended  to  strip 
religion  of  its  objective,  historical,  and  absolute 
character.  Christianity  no  longer  appeared  in  the 
light  of  an  aggregate  of  revealed  truths  which  were 
external  to  the  believer  and  in  which  he  must  have 
faith,  but  as  a  state  of  feeling  which  every  individual 
must  live  for  himself.  It  no  longer  demanded  from 
its  followers  a  belief  in  the  reality  of  certain  historical 
facts.  Protestant  criticism  ended  by  discovering  in 
the  Gospel  narrative  merely  the  mythical  expression 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  279 

of  the  religious  experiences  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians, and  only  allowed  us  to  perceive,  through  a 
more  and  more  impenetrable  fog,  the  personality 
and  teaching  of  the  historical  Christ.  Protestantism, 
in  short,  tended  to  strip  Christianity  of  its  qualities 
as  a  revealed  religion  that  was  one  and  eternal.  The 
Christian  faith  was  merely  one  of  the  myriad  mani- 
festations of  humanity's  religious  sense,  an  admirable 
manifestation  certainly,  a  superior  one  maybe  ;  but 
certainly  not  a  unique  or  even,  perhaps,  an  eternal 
one ;  and  in  any  case  it  was  subject  to  change.  In 
short,  Protestantism  inclined  towards  instituting  a 
Christianity  devoid  of  dogma,  which  developed  a 
subjective  religion  involved  in  an  endless  cycle  of 
evolution. 

IV 

Thus  Protestantism,  by  its  very  nature,  aimed  at 
reconciling  into  a  synthetic  whole  as  perfect  as 
possible  the  two  great  conceptions  of  the  universe 
over  which  the  mind  of  modern  man  was  divided — 
Christianity  and  scientific  rationalism.  Whilst  in 
Catholic  countries,  especially  in  France,  the  collision 
between  religion  and  science  resulted  in  an  open  and 
violent  conflict  between  the  Church  and  the  philoso- 
phers, it  was  accomplished  in  Protestant  Germany 
in  the  most  peaceful  manner.  The  two  rival  powers, 
instead  of  mutually  exterminating  each  other,  tried 
to  come  to  terms  and  concluded  an  alliance. 

In  the  eighteenth  century  the  rationalistic  deism 
of  the  era  of  enlightenment  had  already  appeared 
as  a  preliminary  attempt  to  reconcile  these  two  con- 
flicting principles.  The  identity  between  the  system 
of  nature  constructed  by  the  philosophers  and  the 


280  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

explanation  of  the  universe  taught  by  theologians 
was  proclaimed.  "  Reason  and  revelation,"  said 
Wolf,  '  cannot  be  contradictory,  since  both  come 
from  God,  the  sole  source  of  truth,  who  transmits  it 
through  these  two  channels."  And  as  a  matter  of 
fact  everything  was  arranged  at  the  expense  of  a 
few  concessions  on  either  side.  The  philosophers 
proved  by  means  of  rational  arguments  the  existence 
of  an  omnipotently  good,  powerful,  and  wise  God, 
as  Creator  of  the  universe,  and  also  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  They  insisted  upon  the  harmony  of 
nature,  and  asserted  their  optimistic  faith  in  the 
indefinite  progress  of  mankind.  The  theologians,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  eliminated  the  supernatural 
from  the  Bible,  toned  down  the  pessimistic  character 
of  primitive  Christianity,  and  promoted  moral  teach- 
ing to  the  foremost  rank.  And  thus  a  religious 
philosophy  was  established,  which  gave  satisfaction 
both  to  religious  natures  and  men  of  science.  It 
faced  the  "  radicals  "  of  both  parties  at  once.  It 
combated  atheists  and  the  despisers  of  "  natural 
religion."  It  hurled  its  fulminations  against  Spinoza, 
who  was  the  scapegoat  that  had  to  be  cast  forth 
into  the  wilderness  in  order  to  point  out  to  those  who 
believed  in  the  philosophy  of  Descartes  and  Leibnitz 
the  dangerous  paths  into  which  they  must  not 
stray.  It  condemned  Voltaire,  Helvetius,  and  the 
Encyclopaedists,  whose  unbridled  materialism  was  of 
a  nature  to  alarm  moderate  spirits  and  throw  them 
back  into  the  arms  of  superstition.  But  it  also,  on 
the  other  hand,  opposed  the  fanatical  and  ignorant 
sectarians  of  the  "  positive  religions,"  as  well  as  the 
intolerant  and  hypocritical  members  of  the  orthodox 
faith,  the  bigoted  and  narrow  pietists,  and  above 
all  the  Jesuits,  the  invisible  and  omnipresent  insti- 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  281 

gators  of  a  colossal  conspiracy  against  liberty  and 
enlightenment. 

There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  rationalism  ren- 
dejred  great  services  to  Germany.  Its  generous  faith 
in  the  power  of  the  intelligent  will,  its  attempt  to 
smooth  over  denominational  differences  and  to  un- 
ravel from  the  positive  religions  a  universal  ideal 
for  mankind,  deserve  admiration  and  respect  for  all 
time.  And  its  action  proved  above  all  beneficial, 
inasmuch  as  it  favoured  the  diffusion  in  Germany  of 
a  patrimony  of  ideas  and  feelings  common  to  the 
whole  nation.  Accepted  not  only  by  men  of  high 
culture,  but  also  by  the  clergy,  and  protected  by  the 
Government,  rationalism  was  able  to  penetrate  into 
the  lowest  strata  of  the  people.  By  means  of  preach- 
ing, and  through  the  elementary  schools,  it  was  able 
to  spread  its  fundamental  principles,  liberty  of  thought 
and  conscience,  the  free  exercise  of  reason  in  all 
circumstances  of  life,  the  habit  of  reflection  and  of 
consciousness  of  self — even  among  the  masses.  It 
placed  its  seal  upon  a  very  considerable  fraction  of 
the  nation,  and  it  thus  maintained  a  certain  unity  in 
the  spiritual  life  of  the  country.  Thanks  to  it  the 
upper  classes  did  not  lose  all  touch  with  the  religious 
ideal  of  the  masses  ;  and  the  masses  were  not  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  the  culture  which  had  spread  among 
the  upper  strata  of  society. 

But  it  must,  on  the  other  hand,  be  confessed  that 
this  culture  of  the  era  of  enlightenment  was  of  a 
very  mediocre  description.  Optimistic  and  dogmatic 
as  it  was,  and  convinced  that  it  had  explained  the 
mystery  of  the  world  and  found  a  solution  for  all 
great  psychological,  moral,  metaphysical,  and  religious 
problems,  firmly  believing  that  through  a  precise 
science  it  knew  the  meaning  of  life,  and  peremptory 


282     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

in  all  its  assertions,  rationalism  was  a  conception  of 
life  suitable  to  profoundly  honest  and  respectable 
men,  who  were  rilled  with  no  indiscreet  curiosity  of 
mind,  who  were  not  much  inclined  to  any  refinements 
of  thought  and  feeling,  and  as  little  accessible  to 
doubt  or  to  uneasiness  of  conscience  as  they  were 
incapable  of  any  passionate  religious  exaltation. 
But  it  could  not,  in  the  long  run,  satisfy  the  cultured 
minority.  Its  psychology  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
too  rudimentary.  In  its  shortsighted  enthusiasm 
for  reason  and  science  it  did  not  know  how  to  estimate 
at  their  proper  valuation  the  "  irrational  "  forces  in 
human  nature.  It  either  despised  imagination  or 
regarded  it  with  suspicion  ;  it  was  mistrustful  of 
sensitiveness  and  passion  ;  it  thought  it  could  reduce 
morality  to  a  question  of  interest,  and  it  almost 
eliminated  the  element  of  mysticism  from  religion. 
All  these  forces,  which  it  opposed  or  despised — in- 
stinct, sensitiveness,  creative  imagination,  and  moral 
and  religious  faith — combined  together  to  put  an  end 
to  an  unjustifiable  domination  which  was  becoming 
intolerable. 

And  at  the  same  time  it  began  to  be  realised  that 
the  attempted  reconciliation  between  science  and 
faith  was  no  real  solution,  but  a  halting  compromise 
which  did  not  take  long  to  dissatisfy  everybody. 
Religious  spirits  saw  in  rationalism  a  thinly  veiled 
atheism.  As  for  the  really  scientific  minds,  they 
regarded  it,  like  Lessing,  as  "a  patchwork  put  to- 
gether by  clumsy  pseudo-philosophers,"  and  accused 
the  champions  of  enlightenment  of  having  "  far  too 
little  of  the  theologian  about  them  and  not  enough, 
by  a  very  long  way,  of  the  philosopher."  And  if  in 
our  own  days  a  Nietzsche  has  risen  up  with  so  much 
vehemence  against  Protestantism,  which  he  calls  "  the 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  283 

semi-paralysis  of  Christianity  and  reason,"  it  is 
precisely  on  account  of  its  capacity  for  producing 
bastard  and  misbegotten  compromises  like  rational- 
ism. Towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  it 
was  wholly  discredited  among  the  cultured  classes 
of  the  nation,  and  melted  away  beneath  a  hail  of 
scorn  and  ridicule. 

Whilst  worn-out  rationalism  gradually  died  be- 
neath the  scoffing  of  cultured  Germany,  a  new  and 
impressive  attempt  at  reconciling  science  and  faith 
was  made  through  the  instrumentality  of  Kant  and 
of  German  idealism. 

The  rationalists  had  made  themselves  the  cham- 
pions of  the  rights  of  reason,  or,  more  accurately,  to 
use  Fichte's  expression,  "  of  the  natural  intelligence 
which  is  developed  outside  all  culture  and  all 
morality."  German  idealism,  on  the  contrary,  sub- 
jected these  pretensions  to  a  severe  criticism,  and 
put  an  end  to  the  despotic  sovereignty  of  theoretical 
reason. 

Against  the  pure  intellectualists,  who  asserted  that 
the  real  dignity  of  man  was  to  be  found  in  know- 
ledge, Kant  proclaimed  "  the  supremacy  of  practical 
reason."  Man  was  not  merely  a  thinking  creature — 
he  was  above  all  an  acting  one.  It  was  not  by  man's 
theoretical  reason  alone  that  he  attained  to  certainty. 
In  the  existence  of  the  consciousness  of  duty,  which 
dominated  our  actions,  we  possessed  a  certainty  as 
complete  and  as  absolute — even  more  absolute — 
than  rational  certainty.  But  the  moral  law,  if  we 
analysed  its  premises,  revealed  to  us  the  law  of  the 
Categorical  Imperative  of  Duty — a  law  which  was  not 
imposed  upon  us  from  without,  but  which  we  laid 
down  for  ourselves,  and  which  commanded  us  to  do 
good,  not  with  an  eye  to  any  particular  advantage, 


/*> 


284     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

nor  for  the  attainment  of  any  practical  object,  but 
in  an  absolute  fashion  simply  because  it  was  good. 
This  law  of  duty  was  for  Kant  an  absolutely  certain 
truth,  which  admitted  of  no  possible  doubt.  It  was 
a  postulate  of  practical  reason.  It  was,  in  short,  an 
act  of  faith,  but  one  which  provided  us  with  evidence 
as  startling  as  that  of  science  itself. 

And  upon  the  basis  of  the  "  existence  of  practical 
reason  "  Kant  built  the  religion  of  idealism.  God 
existed  because  He  was  the  necessary  condition  for 
the  moral  law.  The  existence  of  God  was  a  postulate 
of  practical  reason,  not  a  theoretical  but  a  practical 
affirmation,  which  had  its  source  in  a  moral  need — a 
need,  moreover,  which  was  not  merely  an  individual, 
but  a  universal  one,  as  necessary  as  reason  itself. 
We  believed  in  God  because  we  believed  in  the 
reality  of  duty,  because  without  God  the  Categorical 
Imperative  would  cease  to  be  conceivable  as  a  real 
law  of  the  human  will.  Thus  religious  faith,  accord- 
ing to  the  doctrine  of  Kant,  was  a  "  rational  belief" 
(V  ernunftglauben). 

Having  thus  demonstrated  that  the  essence  of  the 
religious  life  of  mankind  was  to  be  found  in  the 
eternal  effort  of  the  will  towards  regeneration  and 
salvation,  Kant  unveiled  for  us  the  genesis  of  this 
religious  ideal.  As  man  was  incapable  of  rising  all 
at  once  to  a  clear  consciousness  of  his  destination 
and  of  his  true  nature,  "  rational  faith  "  first  mani- 
fested itself  in  the  heart  of  the  human  species  in  the 
shape  of  a  divine  revelation,  which  authoritatively 
demanded  belief  as  the  expression  of  the  will  of  God 
Himself.  The  visible  Church,  which  was  the  vessel 
and  guardian  of  this  revelation,  obliged  the  faithful 
to  believe  a  certain  number  of  historical  facts,  which 
they  had  to  admit  without  discussion,  and  dogmas 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  285 

and  statutes  to  which  they  were  called  upon  to  sub- 
mit blindly.  But  these  irrational  elements  in  religion 
tended  gradually  to  become  spiritualised  and  ab- 
sorbed. In  proportion  as  humanity  reached  nearer 
to  maturity  it  "  rationalised  "  the  historical  elements 
of  the  ecclesiastical  faith  and  learnt  gradually  to 
identify  it  with  rational  faith. 

This  identity  was  not  only  possible,  but  necessary. 
The  faith  in  Christ  Himself,  in  fact,  was  not  belief  in 
an  historical  fact.  It  was  faith  in  the  most  ideal  type 
of  humanity,  in  man  wholly  regenerate,  fundamen- 
tally good,  and  consequently  the  Son  of  God ;  it  was 
faith  in  the  possibility  of  our  regeneration,  in  the 
reality  of  the  law  of  duty  and  of  our  moral  destination. 
Humanity,  shaped  in  the  school  of  the  visible  Churches, 
thus  gradually  tended  to  form  a  "  Church  invisible," 
in  which  there  would  no  longer  be  any  ecclesiastical 
hierarchy  or  revealed  dogma,  in  which  every  believer 
would  be  a  priest,  and  in  which  the  historical  faith 
in  a  divine  revelation  and  unreasoning  obedience  to 
the  orders  of  God  would  finally  develop  into  an 
autonomous  and  conscious  "  rational  faith." 

The  conclusion  of  all  this  was  a  general  conception 
of  life  founded  not  upon  intelligence  alone,  but  upon 
human  nature  in  its  '*  completeness,"  and  upon 
reason  and  the  moral  will  in  particular  ;  a  religion 
based  upon  the  existence  of  moral  obligation,  and 
which  gushed  forth  from  the  depths  of  the  human 
soul,  without  being  imposed  upon  mankind  from 
without,  through  the  channel  of  a  supernatural  revela- 
tion— a  religious  philosophy  which  bound  the  past 
to  the  present,  and  showed  in  the  traditional  religions 
the  necessary  stages  by  which  man  gradually  raised 
himself  to  the  consciousness  of  natural  religion. 
Such  were,  apparently,  the  essential  traits  of  German 


286     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

idealism.  This  movement  thus  revealed  itself  as  an 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  Protestant  spirit  to  provide 
a  comprehensive  interpretation  of  the  universe,  which 
should  be  in  conformity  with  its  own  most  funda- 
mental tendencies,  at  once  strictly  scientific  and  pro- 
foundly religious,  holding  all  the  conquests  of  modern 
Reason  in  high  esteem,  and  at  the  same  time  full  of 
respect  for  the  beliefs  of  the  past.  Contemporary 
historians  of  German  thought  are  quite  right  when 
they  agree  as  a  rule  in  seeing  in  Kant  the  greatest 
modern  representative  of  the  Reformation  and  the 
philosopher   par   excellence   of   Protestantism. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  for  me  to  trace  the 
evolution  of  German  idealism  in  the  space  at  my 
command.  To  give  the  narrowest  interpretation  of 
the  term,  it  means  the  philosophical  movement  of 
which  Kant,  Fichte,  Schleiermacher,  Schelling,  Hegel, 
Jacobi,  and  Fries  are  the  best-known  representatives. 
On  the  one  hand,  this  philosophical  movement  was 
in  intimate  connection  with  the  contemporary  literary 
movement,  with  the  classicism  of  Goethe  and  Schiller, 
and  with  romanticism.  But,  on  the  other,  German 
idealism  was  not  confined  to  the  period  between 
Kant  and  Hegel,  and  did  not  end  with  the  dissolution 
of  the  Hegelian  School  and  the  crashing  failure  of 
metaphysical  speculation.  After  a  short  interval  of 
eclipse  it  came  to  light  again  in  the  second  half  of 
the  century  in  the  persons  of  Fechner,  Lotze,  Wundt, 
Eucken,  and  Bergmann.  It  brought  forth  a  new 
idealistic  philosophy,  opposed  the  progress  of  material- 
ism with  the  help  of  the  tenets  of  Kant,  and  once 
more  set  flowing  in  literature  and  in  art  the  modern 
idealistic  and  neo-romantic  current  of  thought, 
which  can  be  perceived  side  by  side  with  realism  and 
naturalism.      It    goes    without    saying    that    in    the 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  287 

course  of  this  long  evolution  German  idealism  clothed 
itself  in  the  most  diverse  forms.  Speculative  and 
adventurous  in  the  beginning,  with  the  grandiose 
constructions  of  a  Fichte  or  a  Hegel,  it  became  more 
scientific  at  the  end  of  the  century,  and  endeavoured 
to  found  an  inductive  metaphysics  upon  the  solid  basis 
of  the  exact  sciences.  In  some  respects  it  was  very 
similar  to  pantheism  and  absorbed  God  into  the 
universe.  In  others  again  it  tended  towards  a 
religion  of  beauty  and  harmony  and  a  restoration  of 
the  Hellenic  ideal.  But  on  the  whole,  under  all  its 
various  manifestations,  it  preserved  certain  essential 
characteristics.  It  opposed  the  narrow  dogmatism 
of  the  old  rationalists,  the  scepticism  or  agnosticism 
of  the  pure  empiricists,  and  the  utilitarian  materialism 
of  the  positivists.  And  above  all,  in  spite  of  its 
independent  and  on  occasion  apparently  irreligious 
airs,  it  remained  conscious  of  its  connection  with 
Christianity.  The  philosophers  from  Kant  to  Hegel, 
the  artists  from  Goethe  to  the  romanticists,  or  Richard 
Wagner,  all  agreed  in  regarding  modern  "  religion  " 
as  identical  with  the  religion  of  Christ.  And  thus 
German  idealism  appeared  in  the  light  of  a  new  com- 
bination of  the  two  great  elements  of  Western  culture 
— the  classical  element  and  the  Christian  element — 
and  as  an  ingenious  and  profound  attempt  to  unite 
into  one  original  whole  the  spiritualised  religion  of 
Christ  and  that  of  science  and  beauty. 

This  religion  of  the  cultured  minority,  the  influence 
of  which  spread  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  Germany,  to 
France,  England,  and  America,  certainly  possesses  afar 
greater  scientific  interest  than  the  rationalism  of  the 
eighteenth  century  which  preceded  it.  But  neverthe- 
less it  must  be  confessed  that  its  sphere  of  action 
remained  much  more  limited  than  that  of  rationalism. 


288  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

It  was  never  able,  like  the  latter,  to  become  a  really 
popular    religion,    and    never    penetrated    into    the 
lowest  strata  of  the  nation.     It  was  too  intellectual, 
too    complicated,  and    also    too    subjective.     It    de- 
manded from  its  adherents  too  high  a  degree  of  culture, 
and  above  all  it  always  remained  indifferent  to  any 
kind  of  organised  ritual.     It  had  as  its  basis  a  popular 
religion,  but  it  rose  above  the  level  of  that  faith,  and 
it  did  not  arouse  in  its  followers  the  need  of  a  common 
religious  life  or  of  public  services.     It  remained  in 
the  condition  of  an  entirely  intimate  and  personal 
religiosity  without  resulting  in  any  reformation  of 
the  existing  Church.     Schleiermacher  was  the  only 
one  of  the  great  representatives  of  idealism  who  had 
the  reorganisation  of  the  Church  really  at  heart.    But 
the  tendencies  which  came  to  light  in  his  Discourses 
on  Religion  were  never  realised   in   practice.     And 
from   his   time  the   idealistic   Protestantism   of  the 
minority  always  remained  upon  the  outskirts  of  the 
official  Church,  incapable  of  finding  expression  for  its 
most  intimate  aspirations  in  the  dogmas,  the  liturgy, 
and   the   ritual   of   the   conservative   Landeskirchen, 
freed  from  the  worship  of  the  Bible,  which  had  ceased 
in  its  eyes  to  be  the  spiritual  food  par  excellence,  and, 
moreover,  but  little  inclined  to  regard  as  a  possible 
consummation    an    intimate    and    lively    intercourse 
between  the  human  soul  and  the  immanent  and  im- 
personal  God  which  it  worshipped. 

Hence  also  a  certain  impotence  in  the  domain  of 
actual  life.  This  religion  of  metaphysicians,  men  of 
letters,  artists,  and  speculators  of  all  sorts  was  lacking 
in  consistency.  These  idealists,  conscious  of  their 
own  intellectual  superiority,  were,  with  an  incurable 
simplicity,  periodically  astonished  at  the  successes 
won  by  the  organised  religions,  by  Catholicism  or  by 


THE    PROTESTANT    SPIRIT  289 

a  ponderous  orthodox  pietism.  And  thus,  opposed 
on  the  one  hand  by  the  "  positivists,"  who  cast 
aspersions  upon  its  pantheism  and  suspected  the 
authenticity  of  its  Christianity,  and  menaced  on  the 
other  by  materialism,  which  accused  it  of  being 
lacking  in  scientific  exactitude  and  won  over  in- 
numerable converts  in  the  capitalistic  and  labouring 
classes,  German  idealism  remained  a  force  which  was 
held  in  esteem  in  the  higher  ranks  of  culture.  But  it 
had  little  influence  over  the  lower  strata  of  ordinary 
life,  and  but  a  small  hold  upon  the  mass  of  the  people, 
whilst  its  power  of  attraction  and  organisation  was 
not  by  any  means  considerable. 

This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  this  vanguard 
of  Protestantism  did  not  play  an  important  part  in 
the  spiritual  life  of  Germany.  Naturally  this  small 
aristocracy  of  intellect,  to  whom  it  was  very  doubtful 
whether  even  the  appellation  of  Christian  could  be 
applied,  had  no  very  great  importance  for  denomina- 
tional Protestantism  as  a  dogmatic  creed  and  as  a 
Church.  But  none  the  less  was  it  an  exceedingly 
vital  element  of  Protestantism  ;  it  was  the  lever 
which  made  it  a  'progressive"  religion,  and  pre- 
vented it  from  becoming  petrified  in  the  dogma  and 
ritual  of  the  past.  If,  in  accordance  with  the  positivist 
doctrine,  universal  evolution  leads  to  the  gradual 
disappearance  of  the  feeling  and  need  for  religion, 
German  idealism  would  be  nothing  but  an  interesting 
but  barren  period  in  the  history  of  civilisation.  It 
would  only  have  served  to  delay  the  final  dissolution  of 
Protestantism  by  concealing  the  fundamental  incom- 
patibility between  faith  and  science  beneath  specious 
though  deceptive  hypotheses,  and  thus  keeping  a 
certain  number  of  good  souls  a  little  longer  in  cap- 
tivity to  an  illusion  of  religion.  But  if  the  need  of 
19 


$i*' 


2&0    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

religion  is  an  integral  element  in  human  nature,  if  the 
"  religion  "  of  the  future  must  grow  from  that  of  the 
past  by  a  regular  and  progressive  evolution,  it  becomes 
at  once  evident  that  German  idealism  has  perhaps  a 
great  career  before  it.  In  this  case,  it  is  justifiable 
to  ask  whether  it  is  not  this  minority — which  is  at 
once  a  reforming  body,  and  one  that  believes  in  tradi- 
tion— that  is  drawing  up  the  table  of  values  which  will 
rule  the  society  of  the  future.  And  without  wishing 
to  pass  any  premature  verdict  upon  the  solution 
which  this  problem  may  one  day  receive,  it  is  possible, 
r  at  all  events,  to  assert  that  this  idealistic  religion, 
which  is  in  high  favour  to-day  in  the  cultured  society 
of  Germany,  is  a  very  characteristic  manifestation  of 
the  German  genius,  which,  in  politics  as  well  as  in 
religion,  shows  itself  to  be  distinctly  progressive, 
though  it  is  hostile  to  all  revolutionary  Radicalism, 
and  is  an  advocate  of  historical  continuity  and  a 
seemly  compromise  between  the  past  and  the  future. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH 
I 

Protestantism,  as  we  have  said,  tended  towards  a 
subjective  religion  free  from  dogma.  But  at  the 
same  time  it  also  constantly  gave  expression  to  the 
uncontrollable  need  of  restoring  a  dogma  and  a 
creed  in  some  shape  or  form. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  this  contradiction  in 
Luther.  At  the  very  moment  when  he  was  working 
with  all  his  might  to  demolish  the  edifice  of  Catholic 
dogma,  he  was  impelled  by  a  sort  of  fatality  which  was 
almost  tragic  to  formulate  a  new  form  of  dogmatism. 
He  wished  only  the  "  Gospel  of  Jesus  "  to  remain 
standing.  But  how  was  the  distinction  between 
"  Gospel  "  and  "  dogma  "  to  be  drawn  ?  The  de- 
parture taken  by  Luther  was  upon  many  points  an 
arbitrary  one.  He  regarded  as  an  integral  portion 
of  the  "  Gospel  "  some  of  the  old  dogmas,  such  as 
that  of  the  Trinity  and  the  twofold  nature  of  Christ. 
Hostile  towards  any  superstitious  reverence  for  the 
letter  of  the  Bible,  he  nevertheless  did  not  refrain  from 
constraining  others  to  bow  before  the  text  of  the 
Scriptures  when  this  text  seemed  to  him  particu- 
larly important  or  convincing.  Although  he  was 
an  enemy  of  scholastic  hair-splitting,  yet  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  inveigled  into  interminable  contro- 
versies of  a  subtle  description.     And  thus  willy-nilly 

291 


292  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

he  laid  the  foundations  of  a  new  dogmatism.  After 
him  Melanchthon  furnished  the  Protestant  faith 
with  an  ample  basis  of  philosophical  formulae.  In 
this  connection  he  restored  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle, 
the  very  man  against  whom  Luther  had  hurled  his 
fulminations  in  such  violent  terms.  From  the  seven- 
teenth century  onwards  there  was  to  be  found  in  all  the 
Protestant  universities,  as  well  as  in  the  Catholic 
ones,  a  scholastic  philosophy  at  the  service  of  theology 
— ancilla  theologies.  And  the  theologians,  taking  up 
their  stand  upon  these  formulas,  vied  with  each  other 
in  drawing  distinctions  between  Protestantism  and 
Catholicism,  and  differentiating  the  various  Protestant 
sects  and  in  convicting  each  other  of  heresy. 

Thus  the  idea  of  "  orthodoxy  "  sprang  up  once 
more  in  the  breast  of  Protestantism.  A  problematical 
and  dangerous  idea  certainly  !  For  how  was  it 
possible  to  conceive  of  orthodoxy  in  the  case  of  a 
religion  which  tended  to  suppress  dogma  in  favour 
of  religious  intuition,  a  faith  which  was  susceptible 
of  variation  ?  What  is  orthodoxy  if  the  "  true 
doctrine "  is  not  definite  and  unchanging  ?  And 
yet  Protestantism  necessarily  tended,  as  every 
other  religion  had  done,  to  set  up  a  dogma.  A 
religion,  in  fact,  ought  to  be  susceptible  of  com- 
munication, and  should  serve  as  a  bond  between 
all  who  have  had  similar  religious  experiences. 
Now  it  is  evident  that  it  is  extraordinarilv  difficult 
for  people  to  communicate  intuitions,  states  of  the 
soul,  and  emotions  to  each  other  ;  and  that  conse- 
quently, in  the  case  of  a  subjective  religion,  it  is 
far  from  easy  to  know  whether  the  faithful  possess 
a  communion  of  sentiment  or  not.  Conceptions 
and  ideas,  on  the  other  hand,  are  easily  communicated, 
and  from  the  practical  point  of  view  are  more  easily 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  293 

utilised  as  signs  of  recognition  and  as  rallying-points. 
Hence  the  tendency,  which  Protestantism  was 
clearly  incapable  of  overcoming,  to  accept  dogma 
to  a  certain  extent  as  a  substitute  for  religious 
intuition,  and  to  allow  intellectual  conceptions  to 
supplant  and  take  the  place  of  intimate  experience, 
and  to  define,  by  means  of  metaphysical  formulae 
or  historical  assertions  the  essence  of  that  "  Word 
of  God,"  that  "  Gospel  of  Jesus  "  which  Luther 
regarded  as  the  basis  of  the  Christian  religion. 

In  the  nineteenth  century  the  Conservative  and 
orthodox  tendency  manifested  itself  with  as  much 
energy  as  the  opposing  Liberal  one. 

From  the  'twenties,  orthodox  Lutheranism  became 
a  power  in  Germany.  We  have  already  pointed 
out  how,  in  alliance  with  pietism,  it  ended  by  exer- 
cising a  considerable  influence  over  the  public 
authorities  and  gaining  the  real  supremacy  in  the 
official  Church.  The  chief  personage  in  whom  this 
renaissance  of  orthodoxy  became  incarnate  was  the 
famous  zealot  Hengstenberg,  the  founder  of  the 
Evangelische  Kirchenzeitung.  He  anathematised  with 
the  fury  of  a  sectarian  all  the  progressive  tendencies 
of  Protestantism,  from  the  old  rationalism  of  the 
eighteenth  century  to  the  subjective  spiritualism 
of  Schleiermacher  and  the  idealism  of  Hegel.  He 
levelled  a  fierce  attack  not  only  at  doctrines,  but 
also  at  men,  and  made  an  unscrupulous  use  of 
invective  and  denunciation,  and  of  his  own  accord 
appealed  to  the  authority  of  the  Government  against 
his  religious  opponents.  This  neo-Lutheran  ortho- 
doxy originated  in  the  reign  of  Frederick  William  III., 
and  was  predominant  in  Prussia  under  Frederick 
William  IV.  Driven  back  at  the  time  of  the  Revolu- 
tion in   1848,  it  regained  its  footing  in  the  'fifties, 


294  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

and  denounced  the  subjectivism  of  Liberal  Protes- 
tantism and  the  aberrations  of  ' '  besotted  Science  " 
with  redoubled  energy.  Its  power,  moreover,  made 
itself  felt  not  only  in  Prussia,  but  also  in  the  rest  of 
Germany,  and  it  celebrated  its  greatest  triumph 
in  Mecklenburg  and  the  Electorate  of  Hesse.  Here, 
under  Kliefoth  and  Vilmar,  it  did  not  merely  confine 
itself  to  demanding  a  literal  belief  in  traditional 
dogma.  It  taught  the  miraculous  and  divine  efficacy 
of  the  Sacraments,  which  were  the  veritable  acts 
of  God  ;  it  proclaimed  the  direct  action  of  super- 
natural powers  upon  human  life,  and  especially 
that  of  the  devil.  Vilmar  asserted  that  he  had 
with  his  own  eyes  seen  the  enemy  of  the  human 
race  with  his  horrible  gnashing  teeth.  And  if  to-day 
orthodoxy  scarcely  ever  manifests  itself  in  such  super- 
annuated shapes,  it  nevertheless  remains  a  real 
power.  Not  only  does  it  maintain  a  compact  group 
of  convinced  believers,  but  it  is  also  considered  the 
natural  auxiliary  of  royalty  in  its  struggle  against 
revolutionary  parties.  The  alliance  between  the 
Throne  and  the  Altar,  once  denounced  by  Schleier- 
macher  as  one  of  the  Church's  gravest  dangers, 
still  existed  up  to  the  end  of  the  century.  Political 
conservatism  and  religious  conservatism  gladly  made 
common  cause  against  those  who  did  not  believe  in 
positive  dogma,  whether  religious  or  monarchical. 

And  it  cannot  be  denied  that  for  German  Pro- 
testantism the  conflict  between  the  positive  and 
the  negative  attitudes,  between  the  denomination- 
alism  of  the  orthodox  and  the  subjectivism  of  the 
"  infidels,"  constituted  a  serious  problem.  Critics 
hostile  to  reform  have  frequently  pointed  out  the 
inconveniences  and  dangers  of  this  position. 

They   depict   for   us    the   sorry   condition   of   the 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  295 

parson,  who  during  his  sojourn  at  the  university 
had  assimilated  contemporary  religious  science.  Such 
a  man  no  longer  believed  in  dogma  or  in  the  his- 
torical elements  of  Christianity.  But  he  found 
himself  constrained  to  preach  this  dogma  in  his 
parish,  to  explain  and  to  comment  upon  the  great 
events  of  sacred  history.  Under  these  circumstances 
he  could  only  get  out  of  his  difficulties  by  means 
of  equivocation,  mental  reservation,  and  tricks  of 
symbolical  interpretation,  which  perpetually  exposed 
him  to  the  degrading  taunt  that  he  did  not  believe 
in  the  truths  he  preached  to  his  parishioners.  We 
find  Protestantism  obliged  to  enforce  a  uniform 
liturgy  in  the  ceremonies  of  baptism,  confirmation, 
and  ordination,  and  to  demand,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, the  use  of  the  apostolic  symbol.  And 
on  the  other  hand,  the  "  modernists  "  showed  their 
repugnance  to  having  forced  upon  them  a  public 
adhesion  to  dogmas  which,  in  their  eyes,  no  longer 
expressed  the  essence  of  the  Christian  faith,  which 
were  liable  to  be  incompatible  with  their  deepest 
beliefs,  and  which  in  any  case  dealt  a  blow  at  private 
conviction. 

They  insist  more  especially  upon  the  embarrassing 
problem  with  which  Protestantism  was  faced  in 
connection  with  religious  teaching  in  the  universities. 
The  German  parson  was  the  pupil  of  professors  of 
theology,  criticism,  and  ecclesiastical  history,  who 
often  belonged  to  the  most  advanced  wing  of  Pro- 
testantism, and  destroyed  in  him  all  belief  in  the 
positive  and  historical  elements  of  religion.  He 
was  subjected,  on  the  other  hand,  to  Civil  Service 
authorities,  who  thought  it  important  to  maintain, 
at  least  nominally  and  on  principle,  a  more  or  less 
strict    orthodoxy,    and    endeavoured    to    eliminate 


296  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

from  the  service  of  the  Church  all  who  were  too 
audaciously  heterodox  or  too  avowedly  sceptical. 
Between  the  intellectual  minority  who  ruled  the 
universities  and  shaped  the  minds  and  consciences 
of  the  future  clergy,  and  the  mass  of  believers, 
together  with  the  official  authority  which  ruled 
over  the  Church,  there  existed  profound  and 
permanent  dissension.  The  drawbacks  of  such  a 
situation  are  patent,  as  well  as  the  difficulty  of 
remedying  them.  What  could  the  authorities  do, 
placed  as  they  were  between  the  representatives  of 
orthodoxy,  who  denied  that  infidels  had  any  right 
to  administer  a  parish  of  Protestants  who  believed 
in  tradition,  and  the  modernists  who  demanded 
liberty  of  conscience  and  the  rights  of  independent 
science  ?  Should  they  regard  the  claims  of  the 
believers  in  tradition  as  null  and  void  ?  But  in 
this  case  they  would  run  the  risk  of  wounding  the 
sincere  convictions  of  the  most  zealous  majority 
of  believers,  and  that  in  order  to  keep  at  the  head 
of  a  parish  some  free-thinker,  who  perhaps  no  longer 
had  the  right  to  the  name  of  "  Christian  "  !  Ought 
they  to  take  severe  measures  against  the  advanced 
thinkers  ?  Ought  they  to  expel  infidel  professors 
from  the  universities  ?  But  then  they  would  put 
themselves  into  conflict  with  the  essential  principle 
of  Protestantism,  they  would  lay  violent  hands 
upon  the  independence  of  scientific  teaching,  and 
they  would  lay  themselves  open  to  the  reproach  of 
wishing  in  the  name  of  religion  to  place  fetters  upon 
free  research.  In  order  to  avoid  this  twofold  danger, 
the  Government  endeavoured  to  manoeuvre  tactfully 
between  the  two  parties,  and  not  to  quarrel  irrevo- 
cably with  either  the  one  or  the  other.  And  it 
thus  involuntarily  favoured  a  spirit  of  equivocation 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH         297 

and  compromise,  to  the  detriment  of  honesty  of 
opinion.  It  created  thorny  cases  of  conscience 
and  false  and  painful  situations  for  precisely  the 
most  interesting  among  the  clergy — those  who  would 
not  agree  to  any  compromise  upon  the  subject  of 
scientific,  moral  and  religious  honesty. 

We  thus  see  the  formidable  dissension  in  which 
the  evolution  of  the  Protestant  spirit  in  Germany 
resulted.  The  picked  intellects  of  Protestantism 
ended  in  conceiving  and  professing  a  purely  sub- 
jective religion,  which  no  longer  demanded  from 
the  believer  an  obligatory  adhesion  to  any  meta- 
physical, moral  or  historical  dogma.  Between  the 
idealistic  Protestantism  and  the  positive  Protestant- 
ism of  tradition  ever  more  fundamental  divergences 
came  to  light.  So  much  was  this  the  case  that  it 
was  possible  to  wonder,  on  occasion,  whether  the 
Protestant  spirit  were  capable  of  creating  a  "  re- 
ligion," a  faith  common  to  the  whole  aggregate  of 
believers,  or  whether  it  were  not  merely  a  dissolvent 
which  gradually  eliminated  from  Christianity  every 
positive  element,  until  at  last  it  faded  into  a  vague 
religiosity  which  was  stripped  of  all  power  of  attrac- 
tion and  was  incapable  of  becoming  the  guiding 
principle  of  any  genuine  religious  body. 

II 

We  have  just  seen  the  difficulties  experienced  by 
Protestantism  in  formulating  once  and  for  all  a  creed 
common  to  all  believers.  The  internal  dissensions  of 
Protestantism  will  appear  more  clearly  than  ever  if 
we  examine  the  evolution  of  the  Protestant  Church. 

The  Middle  Ages  saw  in  the  Church  a  supernatural 
and  miraculous  institution  created  by  God  Himself 
for  the  salvation  of  sinful  man.    The  religious  orders, 


298  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

who  alone  were  expected  to  observe  in  all  its  severity 
the  rule  of  life  laid  down  by  Christ,  constituted  a 
grand  hierarchy,  which  was  subjected  to  one  of  the 
most  severe  systems  of  discipline  that  history  has 
ever   known.     In   both   the   parallel   groups    of   the 
regular  and  the  secular  clergy  the  religious  orders 
were    always    bound   to    the    duty    of   the    strictest 
obedience.     The  bishops  and  the  Heads  of  Orders 
themselves  bowed  before  the  supreme  authority  of 
the  Pope,   who  was  the  chief  head  of  Christianity 
and  the  Vicar  of  God  upon  earth.     Separated  from 
the  clergy  by  a  strong  barrier,  the  mere  laity,  who 
remained  "  in  the  world  "  and  obeyed  the  laws  of 
a  morality  which  was  simply  "  adequate,"  were  in 
perpetual    tutelage.     The    priest,    upon    whom    the 
Sacrament  of  Ordination  conferred  a  sacred  character, 
was  the   only   depository   of  true   doctrine,   and  he 
alone  had  the  right  to  read  and  interpret  the  Bible. 
The    faithful    remained    for    ever    dependent    upon 
dogma,  the  priest  and  the  ritual.     They  could  gain 
salvation  only  in  and  through  the  Church. 

But  Protestantism,  as  Pariset  has  pointed  out, 
tended  from  the  beginning  to  reverse  this  wise 
organisation  of  the  Church.  By  denying  the  authority 
of  the  Pope  and  the  bishops,  it  at  once  ruined  the 
whole  hierarchical  edifice.  And  on  the  other  hand 
it  abolished  the  distinction  recognised  by  Catholicism 
between  the  priest  and  the  congregation,  between  the 
"  religious  "  life  and  the  "  worldly  "  life,  between 
the  higher  morality  and  the  adequate  morality.  It  is 
true  that  it  allowed  a  body  of  clergy  to  survive,  in 
the  pastors.  But  the  latter  did  not  constitute  an 
organised  and  hierarchical  body.  Distinctions  of 
rank  were  almost  entirely  done  away  with.  All  the 
pastors   were   equal   with  regard  to   discipline,   and 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  299 

the  conditions  of  life  were  almost  identical  for  each. 
And,  moreover,  no  barrier  separated  them  from  their 
faithful  flocks.  The  sacerdotal  sacraments  were 
abolished  as  well  as  the  vows  which  made  the  Catholic 
member  of  a  religious  order  a  being  set  apart.  The 
pastor  was  free  to  take  a  wife  and  found  a  family. 
He  was  not  even  master  in  his  own  church,  since  he 
was  assisted  in  his  ministry  either  by  a  body  of 
laymen,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Presbyterian  consis- 
tories, or  by  State  officials  in  the  Government  con- 
sistories. Consequently  there  no  longer  really  existed, 
according  to  Protestant  ideas,  either  a  close  body 
of  clergy,  a  special  organism,  or  a  Church  which  had 
a  life  of  its  own  and  formed  an  independent  power. 
In  distinction  to  the  Catholic  conception  of  a 
Church  with  a  strict  hierarchy  which  led  up  to 
a  theocracy,  Protestantism  upheld  the  idea  of  a 
universal  priesthood.  Every  believer  was  a  priest. 
The  Church  was  wheresoever  any  two  persons  were 
assembled  together  in  the  name  of  God,  and  where- 
soever any  believer  in  his  solitude  addressed  his 
prayer  to  the  Eternal  Father.  We  find  this  idea 
formulated  with  the  most  perfect  clarity  by  Schleier- 
macher.  The  ideal  Church,  the  "  City  of  God,"  as 
he  called  it,  had  for  its  object  the  fruitful  exchange 
of  religious  impressions  and  communion  in  religious 
emotions.  '  Every  man  is  a  priest  when  he  can 
draw  others  to  himself  into  the  domain  which  he  has 
especially  appropriated,  and  in  which  he  can  demon- 
strate his  virtuosity.  Every  one  is  a  believer  when 
he  submits  to  the  direction  and  guidance  of  another 
in  order  to  penetrate  into  regions  of  religion  with 
which  he  is  unfamiliar."  There  was  in  the  City  of 
God  no  caste  and  no  ecclesiastical  despotism  ;  it 
formed  "  a  priestly  nation,"  an  ideal  republic  in  which 


300     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

every  man  was  a  leader  or  a  subject  by  turns.  In  it 
there  existed  no  advantage  for  one  sect  over  another, 
as  the  groups  formed  in  it  by  the  free  play  of  natural 
affinities  did  not  tend  to  fall  apart,  but  were  bound  to 
each  other  by  imperceptible  transitions.  In  the  bosom 
of  the  ideal  Church  men  lived  peacefully  side  by  side 
without  attempting  to  convert  each  other.  They  were 
conscious  of  all  participating  in  the  religion  of  the 
whole  community,  in  that  "infinite  religion"  of  which 
all  particular  religions  were  so  many  subdivisions, 
but  which  no  man  could  embrace  in  all  its  entirety. 

Thus  Protestantism  tended  towards  the  ideal  of  a  re- 
ligion without  priests,  and  instituted  a  universal  priest- 
hood. But  in  practice  no  religion  can  exist  withoutsome 
ecclesiastical  organisation.  Consequently  a  Protestant 
Church  was  formed.  But  the  strange  phenomenon 
occurred  that  in  Germany,  and  especially  in  Prussia, 
this  Church  was  in  many  respects  contradictory  to 
the  most  profound  tendencies  of  the  Protestant  spirit. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  at  the  beginning 
Protestantism  admitted,  just  as  much  as  Catholicism, 
the  supernatural  character  of  the  Church,  as  well  as 
the  idea  of  a  Christian  community,  a  corpus  christi- 
anum,  which  should  be  the  outcome  of  the  harmonious 
co-operation  between  Church  and  State.  But,  in 
addition  to  this,  Protestantism,  by  renouncing  the 
hierarchical  Catholic  system,  contracted  with  the 
State  a  union  much  more  intimate  than  Catholicism 
had  ever  consummated.  In  fact,  it  confided  to  the 
sovereign  authority  of  the  Christian  princes  the 
mission  of  safeguarding  the  existence  of  the  Christian 
community.  And  never  for  one  moment  did  it 
doubt  that  these  sovereigns  would  remain  effectually 
impregnated  by  the  purest  Christian  spirit  and  not 
fail  conscientiously  to  carry  out  this  task. 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  301 

The  result  of  this  abdication  by  the  clergy  of  their 
organising  power  was  the  supremacy  of  the  State  in 
the  government  of  the  new  churches.  In  Prussia 
especially,  where  a  strong  monarchy  was  established 
during  the  eighteenth  century  under  the  Hohen- 
zollern,  the  Church,  according  to  Pariset,  fairly 
quickly  developed  into  a  regular  State  institution. 
The  King  of  Prussia  considered  himself  the  supreme 
head  of  the  churches  in  his  dominions.  He  had  the 
title  of  Supreme  Bishop  (summus  episcopus),  and  in 
this  capacity  he  administered  and  protected  the 
Church,  regulated  the  lives  of  the  clergy  and  ecclesi- 
astical discipline,  kept  a  strict  superintendence  over 
everything  which  in  the  life  of  the  Church  emanated 
from  the  free  initiative  of  the  faithful,  and  restricted 
the  shreds  of  an  authority  which  ancient  customs 
had  left  to  the  clergy  and  the  ecclesiastical  bodies. 
Thus  the  State  became  the  guardian  of  the  Church, 
and  the  clergy  acted  in  the  capacity  of  royal  officials 
and  collaborators  of  royal  officials  in  education,  the 
public  service,  and  the  administration  of  justice  and 
even  of  the  Church.  For  they  were  occasionally 
called  upon  to  publish  edicts,  and  were  obliged  to 
pray  publicly  for  the  King  and  preach  obedience  to 
his  commands.  The  Prussian  State,  which  concen- 
trated the  whole  of  public  life  into  itself,  thus  ended 
by  monopolising  even  the  Church  and  by  creating, 
with  its  support,  a  sort  of  State  religion.  Obedience 
to  Prussian  discipline,  which  was  accepted  as  a 
dogma  by  Protestantism,  was  elevated  to  the  rank 
of  a  supreme  virtue  and  a  religious  conviction  for 
the  sovereign  as  well  as  the  lowest  of  his  subjects. 

This  intimate  alliance  between  the  Throne  and  the 
Altar,  between  the  Prussian  State  and  the  Protestant 
Church,   was  the  source  of  some  advantage  to  the 


302  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Church  and  country,  and,  above  all,  to  the  State. 
The  Church  thereby  found  security,  wealth,  and 
material  power.  By  associating  itself  with  the 
royal  family  of  Prussia  the  triumphs  of  the  latter 
were  its  triumphs.  For  the  country  also  this  intimate 
union  between  the  spiritual  and  temporal  power  was 
in  certain  respects  beneficial.  In  Catholic  countries 
where  the  State  and  the  Church  are  independent  and 
sometimes  rivals,  there  may,  on  occasion,  arise  in  the 
consciences  of  the  faithful  a  conflict  between  religious 
and  civic  duty.  Nothing  of  this  kind  was  possible  in 
Prussia,  where  the  national  feeling  was  never  at  vari- 
ance with  religious  and  moral  faith,  and  where  the 
people,  in  the  decisive  crises  in  the  life  of  the  country 
— in  1813,  and  also  perhaps  in  1870 — were  able, 
without  any  hypocrisy,  to  feel  convinced  that  they 
were  fighting  both  for  God  and  the  King.  In  short, 
in  the  case  of  the  Prussian  monarchy  the  support 
of  the  Church  was  a  most  valuable  resource,  and 
it  utilised  the  authority  of  religion  for  the  main- 
tenance of  public  order.  It  charged  the  clergy  to 
preach  obedience,  resignation,  and  submission  to 
the  powers  that  be,  and  to  fight  the  spirit  of  dis- 
content and  revolt  in  the  breast  of  secular  society. 
It  thus  tried  to  make  the  Church  auxiliary  to  the 
police,  and  to  enrol  the  clergy  in  the  ranks  of  the 
Conservative  party. 

In  the  long  run,  however,  this  association  between 
Church  and  State  could  not  last  ;  and  this  for  an 
exceedingly  fundamental  reason.  The  State  gradu- 
ally became  secularised.  It  ceased  to  be  "  Chris- 
tian," and  no  longer  put  before  itself  the  task  of 
realising  the  will  of  God  upon  earth.  It  set  itself  up 
as  an  independent  sovereignty,  and  knew  no  other 
ends  than  the  increase  of  its  own  temporal  prosperity 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  303 

and  the  attainment  of  power.  And  this  power  it 
desired  for  its  own  purposes  and  not  for  the  sake 
of  placing  it  at  the  disposal  of  the  Church  and  its 
spiritual  ends.  Thus  the  Church  and  the  State  broke 
their  time-established  alliance  and  followed  each 
its  own  path.  The  Church  aimed  at  establishing  its 
spiritual  kingdom,  whilst  the  State  consecrated  its 
energies  exclusively  to  its  own  task  and  dissociated 
itself  more  and  more  from  the  destinies  of  the 
Church.  It  ceased  to  intrude  itself  upon  the  internal 
life^  of  the  Church,  and  was  no  longer  concerned  with 
maintaining  orthodox  doctrine  in  all  its  purity.  It 
proclaimed  its  neutrality  from  the  religious  point  of 
view,  practised  toleration,  and  secured  liberty  of 
conscience  and  freedom  of  worship  for  the  various 
denominations.  It  continued,  moreover,  to  exercise  a 
superintendence  over  the  Church,  though  it  did  so  no  J 
longer  in  the  interests  of  that  body,  but  on  its  own 
behalf,  aiming  at  making  sure  that  the  Church  did 
not  stand  in  the  light  of  its  own  designs  or  trouble 
the  public  peace.  Otherwise  it  no  longer  meddled 
in  ecclesiastical  matters.  It  left  the  Church  to  itself, 
and  allowed  it  the  liberty  to  follow  its  own  ends  in 
any  way  it  might  deem  advisable. 

This  evolution  came  about  by  a  gradual  process. 
Even  to-day  it  is  not  complete,  and  has  only  reached 
its  final  development  in  America.  But,  in  any  case, 
it  is  evident  that  the  idea  of  the  sovereign  State, 
which  aims  exclusively  at  the  development  of  its 
own  independent  power  and  is  indifferent  on  principle 
to  every  religious  ideal,  is  imposing  itself  more  and 
more  forcibly  upon  the  modern  conscience  even  in 
countries  like  Germany,  for  instance,  in  which  the 
traditional  bond  which  united  the  Church  and  the 
State  has  not  yet  been  finally  broken. 


304  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

This  novel  attitude  on  the  part  of  the  State  brought 
in  its  train  a  new  conception  of  the  mission  and 
nature  of  the  Church  also. 

In  proportion  as  the  idea  of  a  sovereign  State  was 
elaborated  in  modern  society  and  the  notion  of 
religious  subjectivism  was  developed  in  the  Pro- 
testant conscience,  the  conception  of  the  Church  also 
underwent  a  radical  transformation.  In  the  eyes  of 
Catholicism  and  of  primitive  Protestantism  the 
Church  was  a  divine  institution,  an  absolute  miracle. 
For  the  modern  Protestant  it  became  more  and 
more  evident  that  the  religious  "  miracle  "  was  no 
external  fact,  such  as  the  constitution  of  a  Church 
which  could  dispense  eternal  salvation,  but  on  the 
contrary,  the  absolutely  internal  fact  of  "  conver- 
sion," of  private  religious  illumination.  From  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  there  emanated  a  principle  of  life 
which,  spreading  from  man  to  man,  gradually  grouped 
an  ever-increasing  number  of  disciples  into  a  more 
or  less  complete  spiritual  communion.  Identity  of 
certain  religious  experiences  created  the  community, 
and  the  community  created  the  Church.  The 
Church  thus  gradually  ceased  to  be  considered  a 
supernatural  body.  It  was  a  human  institution, 
susceptible  to  variation  and  capable  of  development 
just  like  the  religious  feeling  which  gave  it  birth. 
It  was  an  association  of  individuals  who  felt  them- 
selves united  by  one  religious  sentiment  and  formed 
free  groups  in  order  to  communicate  to  each  other 
their  impressions  and  emotions.  It  was  a  guild 
formed  by  the  spontaneous  adhesion  of  the  faithful, 
and  capable  of  assuming  as  many  shapes  as  there 
were  different  shades  in  men's  ideas  of  Christianity. 
Consequently  there  was  no  longer  one  Church 
established  by  God  and  working  with  the  State  for 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  305 

the  development  of  the  Christian  life.  There  were 
a  multitude  of  churches  corresponding  with  the 
diversity  of  private  religious  experiences,  and  were  all 
of  them  imperfect  human  attempts  to  fix  in  a  con- 
crete and  precise  form  the  undenominational  idea 
of  Christianity  in  its  pristine  purity. 

Thus  the  Church  was  both  one  and  infinitely  di- 
verse. As  Schleiermacher  would  have  said,  it  should 
be  neither  a  State  institution  nor  a  multiplicity  of 
small  sects  strictly  differentiated  from  and  hostile  to 
each  other.  Just  as  religion  was  one,  continuous  and 
infinite,  so  also  the  Church  would  never  be  a  real 
school  of  religion  until  the  day  when,  instead  of 
breaking  itself  up  into  a  series  of  separate  individual 
institutions,  it  became  "  a  fluid  and  amorphous  mass, 
without  any  definite  outlines,  and  of  which  each  part 
found  itself  now  in  one  place  and  now  in  another, 
whilst  all  its  elements  mingled  peacefully  together." 
Thus  the  conception  of  an  official  State  Church 
gradually  gave  place  in  the  Protestant  conscience  to 
the  idea  of  Free  Churches. 

Of  course  this  charge  was  not  consummated  in  a 
day,  or  all  of  a  sudden.  The  official  Church  did  not 
cease  to  exist  in  Germany,  it  merely  found  itself 
imperceptibly  gliding  into  a  position  opposed  to  the 
Protestant   spirit. 

The  princes  tried  to  conciliate  to  the  best  of  their 
ability  their  temporal  mission  as  monarchs  of  a 
secular  self-governing  State  and  their  spiritual  mis- 
sion as  chiefs  of  the  national  Church.  But  it  gradu- 
ally became  apparent  that  they  were  above  all  secular 
sovereigns,  who  were  imperceptibly  subordinating  re- 
ligion to  the  service  of  the  State,  and  that  the  spiritual 
authority  of  the  Church  was  thus  gravely  com- 
promised. At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century 
20 


306  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Schleiermacher  eloquently  denounced  the  sacrilegious 
compact  by  which  it  was  bound  to  the  State.  "  Would 
to  God,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  the  chiefs  of  the  State, 
the  experts  and  artists  in  politics,  had  remained  for 
ever  shut  out  from  the  remotest  intuition  of  what 
religion  means  !  Would  to  God  that  no  man  among 
them  had  ever  been  gripped  by  the  power  of  that 
epidemic  of  enthusiasm,  when  once  they  ceased  to 
know  how  to  separate  their  own  individuality  from 
their  duties  as  public  officials  !  .  .  .  You  wish  that  the 
hem  of  a  priestly  robe  had  never  swept  the  floor  of 
a  royal  apartment.  So  be  it.  But  allow  us  in  our 
turn  to  wish  that  the  royal  purple  had  never  kissed 
the  dust  before  the  altar.  A  prince  should  never  have 
been  allowed  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  temple  with- 
out having  laid  aside  the  fairest  ornament  of  his  royal 
dignity,  his  cornucopia  of  favours  and  distinctions." 

The  alliance  with  the  State,  continues  Schleier- 
macher, perverted  the  Church,  which  allowed  a 
political  and  social  mission  to  be  imposed  upon  it 
incompatible  with  the  pure  manifestation  of  the 
religious  sentiment.  The  State  relieved  itself  by 
placing  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  Church  the  duty  of 
providing  the  education  of  the  people  through  giving 
them  elementary  instruction  and  inculcating  upon 
them  some  notions  of  morality.  It  profaned  the 
symbolical  acts  of  the  Church — Baptism,  Communion, 
Marriage,  and  Extreme  Unction — by  connecting  them 
with  civil  acts.  It  arrogated  to  itself  the  right  of 
filling  ecclesiastical  posts.  And  inasmuch  as  it 
expected  from  the  clergy  services  which  had  nothing 
to  do  with  religion,  it  ended  by  excluding  religious 
men  from  the  government  of  the  Church.  In  short, 
it  stripped  the  Church  of  liberty  and  self-government, 
without  which  she  remained  for  ever  incapable  of 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  307 

fulfilling  her  real  mission,  which  was  to  prepare  souls 
to  receive  the  revelation  of  religion. 

Thus  the  divorce  between  the  religious  spirit  and 
the  official  Church  was  consummated.  The  modern 
German  Protestant  is  a  subjectivist.  In  his  eyes  the 
true  Church  is  not  a  political  and  social  institution, 
but  the  "  City  of  God  "  of  which  Schleiermacher 
dreamt,  the  ideal  Church  which  groups  into  one 
spiritual  community  all  those  whom  the  same  mystic 
impulse  of  the  soul  draws  towards  God.  And  this 
ideal  Church  should  receive  a  practical  incarnation 
in  an  infinite  variety  of  free  Churches,  composed  by 
the  spontaneous  membership  of  the  faithful.  The 
official  Church,  when  it  became  simply  a  conservative 
organ  of  the  State,  appears,  from  this  point  of  view, 
an  anachronism,  a  survival  of  the  old  system  which 
has  no  meaning  in  the  present  day.  Everywhere  a 
growing  dissatisfaction  with  it  is  to  be  found  among 
the  people.  The  large  towns  had  become  "  spiritual 
cemeteries."  Outside  the  official  world,  which,  follow- 
ing the  example  of  the  Emperor,  professed  a  strict 
Evangelicalism,  there  were  hardly  any  believers. 
The  enlightened  middle  classes,  out  of  respect  for 
tradition  and  as  a  matter  of  form,  associated  religion 
with  the  most  important  acts  of  their  lives,  and  found 
in  it  a  salutary  curb  to  keep  the  masses  in  subjection. 
But  they  had  lost  all  lively  faith  and  any  real  need 
of  religion.  As  for  the  working  masses,  fermented 
as  they  were  by  Socialism,  they  displayed  merely 
indifference  or  hostility.  They  were  quite  ready  to 
suspect  the  parson  of  being  in  league  with  the 
police  and  the  Church,  "  of  working  for  the  safety 
of  the  Throne  and  the  security  of  wealth  much  more 
than  for  the  glory  of  God."  And  in  the  country 
districts  as  well  it  seemed  ^that  the  preaching  and 


308     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

teaching  of  the  clergy  had  almost  no  hold  upon  the 
minds  of  the  peasants  or  over  public  morality. 

In  short,  a  diminution  in  the  vitality  of  the  official 
Church  was  everywhere  apparent.     It  was  kept  alive 
artificially,  thanks  to  the  energetic  support  of  the 
Government,  in  the  midst  of  a  society  which  was 
indifferent  to  its  practices.     The  Prussian  princes, 
especially,    continued    to    take    their    functions    as 
summus  episcopus  of  the  Kingdom  very  seriously. 
They   endeavoured   to   maintain   in   the   Protestant 
Church    a    certain    cohesion    and    a    certain    unity. 
Frederick  William  IV.  succeeded  in  establishing  in 
his  dominions  the  union  of    all  the  denominations 
which   were   the   outcome   of   the   Reformation,    by 
decreeing    certain    compromises    between    them  on 
matters    of    dogma.     And    similarly    the    Emperor 
William    II.    took    the    interests    of    Protestantism 
actively  in  hand.     In  the  course  of  the  debates  upon 
the  Agenda,  he  intervened  personally  in  favour  of  the 
divinity  of  Christ  ;  in  a  famous  telegram  he  denounced 
the  political  and  social  intrigues  of  the  "  Christian 
Socialist  "  party,  and  attempted  to  combat  religious 
indifference   by  increasing  the  number  of   churches 
in  Berlin.      But  all  these  efforts   did   not   avail   to 
infuse  fresh  life  into  the  official  Church.     It  seemed 
more   and  more  of   an  anachronism  and   a  bar  to 
the    normal    development   of    Protestant    principles. 
The  Protestant  spirit  continued  its  evolution  during 
the  nineteenth  century,  by  making  the  idea  of  religion 
ever  more  spiritual,  by  giving  birth  to  a  science  of  the 
Bible   and   a   new    theology,    and   by   endeavouring 
with  indefatigable  ingenuity  to  reconcile  science  and 
faith  into  one  bold  synthesis.     And  in  proportion  to 
its  progress  it  felt  itself  constantly  fettered  by  the 
rigid  framework  of  a  State  Church,  the  creation  of 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  309 

a  bygone  age,  which  no  longer  satisfied  the  modern 
mind.  The  result  is  that  the  Church  is  to-day  nothing 
but  a  body  without  a  soul,  a  showy  edifice  whose  im- 
posing exterior  but  poorly  hides  its  real  organic  ruin. 
It  is  therefore  probable  that  the  ecclesiastical 
organisation  of  evangelical  Germany  has  not  yet 
found  its  true  form,  but  that  it  is  at  present  going 
through  a  period  of  transition  from  the  system  of 
State  Churches  (Landeskirchen),  to  that  of  Free 
Churches  (Freikirchen).  Not  only  do  we  find  to-day 
in  Germany  a  very  large  number  of  sects  which  have 
sprung  from  the  pietist  movement  and  which  have 
free  self-government,  but  the  official  Church  itself  is 
also  aspiring  towards  enjoying  a  rather  more  inde- 
pendent existence.  The  constitution  of  1873-76, 
by  developing  synodic  institutions,  gave  congrega- 
tions the  opportunity  of  expressing  their  opinions 
fairly  freely  upon  matters  connected  with  the  life  of 
the  Church.  It  is  true  that  even  to-day  the  Evan- 
gelical Church,  which  is  subjected  to  the  placet  of 
the  Government  in  all  its  internal  legislation,  is  per- 
haps less  free  than  the  Catholic  Church,  which  was 
liberated  from  this  necessity  as  a  result  of  the  Kultur- 
kampf.  Nevertheless  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  first 
steps  towards  the  independence  of  the  Church  have 
been  taken.  How  far  will  Germany  go  along  this 
path  ?  Will  the  Protestant  Church  and  the  State 
one  day  enter  upon  the  perilous  venture  of  a  com- 
plete divorce  ?  There  is  nothing  to  show  that  this 
radical  solution  will  be  tried  in  the  near  future.  Even 
among  the  "  modernist  "  Protestants  there  are  those 
who  believe  that  a  synodic  system  would  put  more 
fetters  upon  the  audacities  of  free  theological  research 
than  State  administration,  and  therefore  feel  a  certain 
sympathy   for   the  system  of    Landeskirchen.     Yet, 


310     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

generally  speaking,  recent  historians  of  religion  are 
quite  ready  to  admit  that,  to  use  Troltsch's  words, 
"  Protestantism  on  the  whole,  as  a  spiritual  principle 
and  as  a  Church,  is  involved  in  an  evolution  whose 
essence  is  the  idea  of  independence." 

This  situation  is  not  without  its  inconveniences 
and  dangers.  It  reveals  once  more  the  fundamental 
contradictions  which  we  have  already  pointed  out  in 
Protestantism.  The  Protestant  faith  is  progressing 
towards  a  purely  spiritual  and  internal  religion, 
without  dogmas,  priests,  sacrifices,  good  works,  or 
external  ceremonies.  And  yet,  apparently  in  order 
to  have  a  tangible  existence  and  an  outside  influence, 
it  cannot  avoid  promulgating  a  creed  and  binding 
itself  to  the  historical  and  traditional  past  of  Chris- 
tianity and  constituting  itself  as  a  Church.  It  is 
obviously  open  to  question  whether  on  the  one  hand 
the  Protestant  spirit  will  not  necessarily  feel  itself 
cramped  in  any  Church,  and  on  the  other  whether. a 
religion  without  a  Church  is  not  sheer  nonsense. 

Naturally  upon  this  question  opinions  are  divided. 
Some,  like  Goyau,  insist  upon  the  impossibility  of 
reconciling  the  religious  feeling  of  the  few  with  the 
religion  of  the  masses.  They  point  out  the  growing 
gulf  between  the  mental  outlook  of  the  enlightened 
Protestants  who  are  capable  of  making  their  own 
belief,  and  the  crowd  of  the  mediocre,  the  lukewarm 
and  half-hearted  believers  who  do  not  make  their 
Christianity,  but  submit  to  it  and  thus  remain  attached 
to  the  old  forms  and  the  ancient  practices.  And  from 
this  they  draw  the  conclusion  that  Protestantism 
contains  a  contradiction  within  itself  which  is  destined 
to  become  ever  more  intolerable  in  proportion  as  it 
develops,  and  will  entail  the  more  or  less  fatal  dis- 
solution of  the  Protestant  Church. 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH  311 

Others,  on  the  contrary,  are  of  the  opinion  that 
Protestantism  will  know  how  to  put  an  end  to  this 
contradiction  by  a  series  of  successive  compromises, 
and  that  it  will  give  birth  during  the  course  of  its 
evolution  to  provisional  types  of  organisation  which 
will  be  adapted  to  the  various  states  of  conscience  and 
the  degrees  of  culture  through  which  the  Protestant 
soul  will  pass.  And  they  see  in  this  capacity  for 
change  the  real  greatness  of  Protestantism.  From 
this  point  of  view  a  religion  is  not  something  absolute 
and  unchangeable,  but  something  which  becomes — the 
product  of  human  striving  after  perfection,  the  fruit 
of  painful  and  ceaseless  groping.  And,  like  religion 
itself,  the  Church  also  must  evolve  and  be  transformed. 
The  difficulties  with  which  it  meets,  the  contradictions 
which  are  set  before  it,  arise  from  the  very  nature  of 
circumstances.  Protestantism  will  show  its  value,  not 
by  finding  the  solution  of  the  Church's  problem — which 
is  impossible — but  by  raising  itself  step  by  step  to 
ever  less  imperfect  forms  of  religious  association. 

The  discussion  finally  resolves  itself  into  the  ques- 
tion of  ascertaining  whether  the  specifically  Protestant 
idea  still  possesses  sufficient  vitality  to  exercise  a 
real  influence  over  the  life  of  to-day,  whether  it  is 
capable  of  producing  fresh  compromises  between 
religious  traditionalism  and  wilful  rationalism,  and 
of  rallying  around  its  dogmas  a  sufficiently  large  and 
compact  body  of  adherents.  Catholics,  as  a  rule,  do 
not  estimate  its  power  of  attraction  very  highly.  And 
even  in  the  Protestant  world  there  are  some  who  ask 
themselves  to  what  extent  the  existing  organisation 
of  Protestantism  is  still  a  living  principle  of  life  and  an 
effective  organising  force.  And  they  do  not  blink  the 
fact  that  in  any  case  the  Protestant  Church  is  going 
through  a  crisis  the  end  of  which  is  not  yet  in  sight. 


312  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

On  the  whole,  however,  there  is  a  tendency  to  be 
optimistic  with  regard  to  the  result  of  this  crisis.     It 
is  recognised  that  the  problem  of  the  maintenance  of 
Protestantism  is  exceptionally  complicated  and  diffi- 
cult at  the  present  moment,  based  as  it  is  upon  the 
lowest   layers   of   the   nation,    upon   a   crowd   which 
needs,  above  all,  an  organised  religion,  a  Church  with 
rites,  doctrines,  and  traditional  ceremonies.     As  for 
the    cultured    few,  they    are    emancipated    from    all 
dogmatic   belief,  and   live    on   the    outskirts    of   the 
Church,  picking  out  their  path  in  perfect  independ- 
ence, allied  with  all  the  idealistic  energies  of  the  day 
in  their  struggle  against  scepticism  pure  and  simple, 
as  well  as  against  the  utilitarian  realism  which  has 
no  higher  aspirations.     That  such  incongruous  ele- 
ments  sometimes   find   it   difficult   to   agree,   is   not 
surprising.     But  the  strength  of  Protestantism  lies 
in  the  very  fact  that  it  unites  these  two  elements. 
It  has  more  fundamental  vigour  than  purely  idealistic 
philosophy,  as  it  thrusts  out  its  roots  into  a  popular 
religion  and  relies  upon  an  organised  Church.     And 
it  carries  the  day  over  authoritative  religions  inas- 
much as  it  blossoms  into  an  idealistic  faith  which  is 
purely  human,   and  because  it   is,   according  to  its 
followers,   the   only   religion   by   which   the   modern 
man,  who  is  an  individualist  and  in  love  with  liberty, 
can  live.     The  members  of  the  Protestant  camp  are 
therefore  confident  of  the  future.     They  feel  that  the 
German  genius,  which  is  at  once  conservative  and 
progressive,  will  prove  supple  and  resourceful  enough 
to  maintain  indefinitely,  without  having  to  subject 
it  to  irreparable  humiliation  in  either  one  direction  or 
the  other,  a  religion  so  well  adapted  to  the  funda- 
mental tendencies  of  the  race. 


CHAPTER    V 

FREE   THOUGHT 


In  the  course  of  the  last  chapter  we  described  the 
prodigious  effort  made  by  idealism  to  reconcile 
reason  and  faith,  and  to  elaborate  a  general  concep- 
tion of  the  universe  which  should  be  in  harmony 
with  the  conclusions  of  the  positive  sciences  and  yet 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  satisfy  the  traditional  religious 
needs  of  the  modern  mind.  We  shall  not  recur  in 
the  present  chapter  to  this  exceedingly  original 
creation  of  the  German  spirit,  although  it  was 
obviously  the  outcome  of  free  thought.  We  shall 
only  occupy  ourselves  with  the  attempts  on  the  part 
of  the  German  mind  to  emancipate  itself  completely 
from  religious  tradition  and  to  constitute  outside 
Christianity,  or  even  in  conscious  opposition  to  it, 
an  idea  of  the  world  and  a  rule  of  life  which  should 
be  purely  rational,  or,  at  all  events,  "  irreligious." 

In  opposition  to  Christianity,  and  in  direct  an- 
tagonism with  it,  the  nineteenth  century  witnessed 
the  development,  in  the  first  place,  of  a  vigorous 
militant  materialism  which  was  absolutely  confident 
of  the  soundness  of  its  doctrines  and  numbers  its 
adherents  to-day  by  the  million. 

Fostered  during  the  'thirties  and  'forties  by  the 
antichristian    sensualism   of    Young    Germany    and 

313 


314  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  apostles  of  the  rehabilitation  of  the  flesh,  by  the 
theological  radicalism  of  men  like  Strauss  and  Baur, 
by  the  philosophical  and  political  radicalism  of  men 
after  the  stamp  of  Ruge  or  the  Bauer  brothers,  and 
by  the  naturalism  of  Feuerbach,  materialism  domi- 
nated German  thought  during  the  'fifties  and  'sixties 
invthe  persons  of  Karl  Vogt  and  Moleschott,  Buchner 
and  Czolbe  on  the  one  hand,  and  Marx  and  Engels 
on  the  other.  The  triumph  of  Darwin's  ideas  on 
evolution  in  the  sphere  of  natural  science  accentuated 
its  success  still  more  forcibly  among  the  representa- 
tives of  modern  culture ;  whilst  in  the  domain  of 
actual  life,  the  diffusion  of  Socialism,  and  with  it  of 
Marxian  materialism,  among  the  masses,  won  over 
numberless  followers  to  its  cause. 

Energetically  combated  after  1870,  in  the  name 
of  Kant's  philosophy,  with  its  theory  of  knowledge 
on  the  one  hand,  and  later  on  also  by  the  repre- 
sentatives of  neo-romanticism,  materialism  certainly 
lost  much  of  its  credit  among  the  cultured  minority. 
But  the  enormous  success  of  Haeckel's  works,  which 
were  circulated  by  the  thousand,  clearly  proves  that 
it  kept  its  hold  over  a  very  important  fraction  of 
the  educated  public.  And  its  power  of  attraction 
over  the  Socialist  masses  does  not  seem  to  have 
diminished.  It  is  true  that  the  programme  of  Erfurt 
proclaimed  that  "  religion  is  a  private  concern  "  ; 
and  the  Socialist  Congresses  have  on  many  occasions 
thrown  out  motions  aimed  at  making  the  party  leave 
this  position  of  neutrality  and  take  up  a  more  mili- 
tant attitude  against  religion.  But  if,  out  of  con- 
sideration for  political  tactics,  the  party  refuses  to 
inscribe  Atheism  on  its  programme,  so  as  to  avoid 
compromising  its  success  among  certain  elements  of 
the  population,  the  bulk  of  its  adherents  are  never- 


FREE    THOUGHT  315 

theless  converts  to  Marxian  materialism.  On  account 
of  the  philosophy  upon  which  its  programme  is  based 
Socialism  is  radically  opposed  to  the  idea  of  religion, 
and  the  mass  of  its  followers — as  is  evident  to  all — 
is  quite  ready  to  admit  with  Bebel  that  "  Christianity 
and  Socialism  are  like  fire  and  water  together." 
And  apparently  the  efforts  recently  made  to  prove 
that  Socialism  is  not  necessarily  allied  to  the  economic 
materialism  of  Marx,  and  can  equally  well  find  its 
justification  in  the  doctrines  of  Kant,  have  not 
modified  the  position  the  least  bit  in  the  world. 

We  must  therefore  examine  what  this  spread  of 
materialism  means. 

Its  success  is  due  in  the  first  place  to  the  fact  that 
it  is  regarded  as  the  philosophical  doctrine  which 
co-ordinates  the  results  of  natural  science.  It  in- 
spires confidence  because  its  champions,  men  like 
Karl  Vogt  and  Haeckel,  for  instance,  are  at  the  same 
time  naturalists  of  great  merit.  As  they  possess  the 
right  to  speak  in  the  name  of  science,  they  derive  the 
benefit,  in  their  capacity  as  philosophers,  from  their 
very  legitimate  authority  as  scientists.  I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  point  out  several  times  how, 
in  consequence  of  the  marvellous  progress  made 
during  the  nineteenth  century  in  science  and  rational 
technical  processes,  the  conviction  grew  up  that 
science  was  capable  of  solving  the  riddle  of  the 
universe,  fixing  standards  of  conduct  for  men,  and 
leading  humanity  to  the  attainment  of  happiness. 
Preached  by  a  certain  number  of  scientists,  and 
accepted  by  the  bulk  of  the  public  as  the  scientific 
philosophy  par  excellence,  materialism  benefited  by 
the  enormous  prestige  in  which  exact  science  re- 
joices at  the  present  day.  Like  the  materialism  of 
Democritus,   Epicurus   and   Lucretius,  and  that     of 


h*&*^ 


t>*>~ 


i> 


316     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Lamettrie  and  Baron  Holbach,  modern  German 
materialism  was  born  from  the  enthusiasm  for  the 
great  scientific  discoveries  of  the  age,  and  the  belief 
that  it  was  quite  easy  to  found  upon  purely  scientific 
bases  a  metaphysical  explanation  of  the  universe. 

Materialism  arose,  in  the  second  place,  from  the 
general  evolution  towards  realism  which  is  one  of 
the  characteristic  features  of  the  modern  world,  and 
which  has  its  source  in  the  development  of  the  spirit 
of  capitalistic  enterprise.  Just  as  Germany  aimed 
more  and  more  consciously,  as  the  century  advanced, 
at  the  conquest  of  economic  and  political  power;  just 
as  the  middle  classes,  especially,  consigned  to  the 
second  place  their  desire  for  culture  and  political 
liberty  in  order  to  concentrate  all  their  energies 
upon  the  attainment  of  wealth ;  just  as  art  evolved 
from  romantic  subjectivism  to  modern  naturalism; 
so  also,  in  the  domain  of  philosophy,  external  and 
material  realism  carried  the  day  over  ideas.  The 
representative  of  modern  capitalistic  enterprise  is 
incessantly  absorbed  in  calculations  of  interest ;  he  is 
jostled  by  the  increasing  rush  in  which  life  is  lived, 
accustomed  to  regarding  existence  as  an  unceasing 
and  endless  race  for  wealth,  driven  to  considering 
feverish  work  and  business  as  an  end  in  itself,  and 
shaped  to  a  purely  utilitarian  morality  which  in 
everything  values  only  immediate  tangible  and  solid 
success  and  holds  in  esteem  only  those  qualities 
which  lead  to  it.  Consequently,  in  the  domain  of 
thought  he  feels  himself  peculiarly  in  touch  with 
materialism  which  seeks  for  fundamental  reality,  not 
in  any  spiritual  principle,  but  in  concrete  and  pal- 
pable matter.  And  similarly  he  is  quite  ready  to 
admit  the  theory  of  evolution  which  raises  to  a 
universal  law  the  struggle  for  existence,  that  law  of 


FREE    THOUGHT  317 

competition  which  holds  supreme  sway  in  the  world 
of  enterprise. 

And  at  the  other  end  of  the  social  ladder  the 
populace  who  labour  hard  and  ceaselessly  to  gain 
their  daily  bread,  who  see  their  happiness,  and  even 
their  very  existence  menaced  by  forces  over  which 
they  have  no  control,  who  live  in  poverty  or  at  best 
in  humble  circumstances,  whilst  under  their  very 
eyes  and  in  their  immediate  neighbourhood  they 
have  the  enormous  material  resources  of  urban  life, 
agree  with  the  capitalists  and  tend  to  turn  life 
and  the  world  into  purely  materialistic  conceptions. 
The  aristocratic  materialism  of  the  great  capitalists 
is  balanced  in  the  lower  social  scale  by  the  levelling 
and  boundless  materialism  of  the  socialistic  masses. 

But  there  is  yet  another  and  rather  more  curious 
reason  which  has  contributed  to  the  diffusion  of 
materialism  among  certain  minds,  and  that  is  a  kind 
of  pessimism  which  has  sprung  up  in  our  day  with 
regard  to  the  demands  of  sentiment.  Humanity 
hitherto  has  found  consolation  in  the  religious  hypo- 
thesis, in  the  idea  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  in 
the  hope  of  a  celestial  justice  which  will  make  good 
the  inequalities  of  life  and  fate,  in  the  faith  in  a 
God  of  mercy  and  goodness  who  will  keep  watch 
over  His  children  and  have  pity  upon  their  sufferings. 

But  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  modern  man,  at 
the  same  time  as  he  learnt  no  longer  to  trust  his 
reason,  learnt  also  to  feel  greater  suspicion  with 
regard  to  the  demands  of  his  heart.  Not  only  did 
the  consoling  hypotheses  of  Christianity  no  longer 
appear  to  him  ipso  facto  true,  but  he  also  developed 
within  his  breast  a  sort  of  ascetic  honesty  which  for- 
bade him  to  indulge  in  any  longings  for  a  Beyond, 
and  inclined  him  to  take  sides  with  the  theories  that 


318     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

most  rudely  contradicted  hopes  which  from  that 
moment  were  regarded  as  illusions.  A  materialist 
like  Czolbe,  for  instance,  was  convinced  that  the 
demand  for  eternity  necessarily  had  its  source  in  a 
certain  weakness  of  soul,  and  scientific  and  moral 
honesty  commands  the  man  of  to-day  to  resign  him- 
self, once  and  for  all,  to  look  life  in  the  face  and  to 
limit  his  desires  to  existence  upon  earth.  Regarded 
from  this  point  of  view,  materialism  appears  in  the 
light  of  an  effort  towards  intellectual  sincerity,  and 
as  a  determined  desire  no  longer  to  be  the  dupes 
of  the  illusions  in  which  men  found  joy  for  many 
centuries. 

And  lastly,  materialism  is  also  the  response  of  the 
modern  spirit  to  the  attacks  of  the  champions  of 
religion. 

We  have  already  seen  how  Roman  Catholicism 
hurled  its  fulminations  against  "  pseudo-science,"  how 
it  violently  stifled  the  rationalistic  tendencies  which 
made  their  appearance  in  the  bosom  of  Catholicism, 
and  how  rigidly  it  made  human  reason  bow  before 
the  principle  of  authority.  But  orthodox  and 
pietistic  Protestantism  nourished  almost  as  much 
suspicion  as  Catholicism  with  regard  to  independent 
science.  The  representatives  of  religion  evidently 
showed  an  inclination  to  treat  reason  with  suspicion 
or  as  an  enemy.  And  when  they  were  in  power  they 
did  not  hesitate  to  oppose  it  not  only  with  spiritual 
weapons,  but  by  force,  and  by  appealing  to  the 
authority  of  the  State  to  stamp  out  heresy.  The 
persecutions  of  which  such  men  as  Fichte  and  Strauss, 
Buchner  and  Moleschott,  were  the  victims,  the 
innumerable  annoyances  to  which  the  universities 
were  exposed,  during  the  Restoration  period  as  well 
as  during  the  reign  of  Frederick  William  IV.,  and  the 


FREE    THOUGHT  319 

reactionary  era  which  followed  upon  1848,  and  the 
ill-will  of  orthodox  pietism  in  connection  with  many 
a  representative  of  German  intellect,  gave  rise,  in  a 
certain  section  of  public  opinion,  to  profound  irrita- 
tion, and  spread  in  it  the  conviction  that  between 
religion  and  science  there  existed  a  normal  and 
necessary  antagonism. 

The  Church  gave  rise  to  even  greater  hatred,  as  it 
so  often  appeared  as  the  ally  of  the  monarchy  against 
revolution,  as  the  enemy  of  the  democratic  move- 
ment, as  the  great  conservative  power  which,  by 
means  of  fallacious  promises,  kept  the  people  in 
obedience,  made  them  bow  before  authority  and 
tradition,  preached  to  them  a  cowardly  resignation 
in  their  troubles,  and  turned  them  away  from  the 
energetic  demand  for  their  right  to  happiness.  Thus 
materialism  seemed  to  many  the  most  radical  form 
of  anti-clericalism,  as  the  declaration  of  a  loyal 
and  resolute  war  against  the  feeling  of  oppression 
which  the  Church  and  religion  aimed  at  imposing 
upon  the  consciences  of  men.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say,  of  course,  that  antagonism  between  religion 
and  science  is  really  a  necessity,  or  that  the  Church 
must  inevitably  be  a  tyrannical  and  reactionary 
power.  I  merely  wish  to  point  out  that  in  the 
course  of  history  it  has  frequently  proved  intolerant 
and  oppressive,  and  too  friendly  with  the  powerful 
in  the  land.  Materialism  is,  in  some  respects,  the 
classical  form  which  the  anti-clerical  and  anti-re- 
ligious reaction,  provoked  by  this  attitude,  assumes. 

Materialism,  however,  seems  recently  to  have  lost 
some  of  its  prestige  in  Germany,  at  least  among  the 
cultured  classes. 

Its  "  heyday "  was  during  the  reactionary  period 
inaugurated  after  the  upheavals  of  1848.     This  was 


320  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  time  when  Karl  Vogt  made  fun  of  the  "  collier's 
faith  "  of  his  colleague,  Rudolf  Wagner,  who  tried 
to  prove  the  existence  of  a  vital  energy  and  of 
a  soul-substance.  The  protagonists  of  materialism 
showed  themselves  so  superior  to  their  philosophical 
and  scientific  adversaries  that  the  Government,  in 
order  to  reduce  them  to  silence,  could  find  no  better 
course  than  that  of  driving  Moleschott  and  Buchner 
from  their  professorial  chairs.  The  publication  of 
Darwin's  Origin  of  Species,  in  1859,  seemed  to  give 
the  death-blow  to  the  spiritual  theory.  And  D.  F. 
Strauss,  breaking  his  last  ties  with  Christianity, 
announced  by  his  book  The  Old  and  the  New  Faith 
(1872)  his  solemn  adherence  to  the  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion and  materialistic  monism. 

But  by  the  time  Strauss's  book  appeared  the 
reaction  had  already  set  in.  A  Kantian  Renaissance 
could  be  discerned,  and  a  really  scientific  criticism 
of  knowledge  which  was  of  high  philosophical  im- 
portance was  elaborated.  And  by  the  light  of  this 
criticism  materialism  was  soon  shown  to  be  a  meta- 
physical dogma  quite  as  unproved  and  quite  as 
undemonstrable  as  any  idealistic  system  that  had  ever 
existed,  a  hazardous  hypothesis  in  connection  with 
problems  about  which  human  reason  should  make 
up  its  mind  to  a  definite  ignorabimus.  Materialism, 
consequently,  was  not  able  to  make  itself,  as  it 
aspired  to  do,  the  scientific  philosophy  par  excellence. 
There  is  no  serious  thinker  to-day  who  does  not 
frankly  accept  all  the  conclusions  of  the  exact 
sciences  and  loyally  aim  at  giving  them  as  satisfactory 
an  interpretation  as  possible.  The  materialists  were 
foolish  in  arrogating  to  themselves  a  monopoly  in 
this  respect.  The  whole  point  is  to  know  which  ex- 
planation best  covers  the  facts.     Now  the  material- 


FREE    THOUGHT  321 

istic  explanation  from  the  neo-Kantian  point  of 
view  had  one  grave  defect — it  ignored  the  positive 
and  certain  results  of  the  criticism  of  knowledge. 
And  it  had  therefore  to  be  rejected  as  inadequate. 
The  materialist  was  a  dilettante  at  philosophy  who 
ventured  upon  ground  with  which  he  was  not  familiar 
and  where  he  went  grossly  astray. 

Opposed  on  the  one  hand  by  the  school  philoso-  . 
phers  in  the  name  of  the  principles  of  criticism,  mate- 
rialism found  itself,  on  the  other  hand,  discredited  in 
the  eyes  of  the  representatives  of  neo-romanticism. 
The  Old  mid  the  New  Faith  by  Strauss  was  greeted 
by  the  strident  shriek  of  Nietzsche's  terrible 
pamphlet  against  the  "  Philistine  of  Culture  "  and 
the  "  Socratic  "  rationalism  of  the  modern  world. 
Materialism  had  once  seduced  men's  minds  by  its 
radicalism.  It  was  now  outgrown  and  contemptu- 
ously cast  aside  by  a  new  radicalism  which  was  even 
more  uncompromising,  which  was  pessimistic  to  the 
point  of  nihilism,  sceptical  by  the  very  power  of  its 
intellectual  consciousness,  immoralist  and  antichris- 
tian  through  the  extreme  refinement  of  its  moral 
honesty.  Materialism  had  once  gained  adherents 
on  account  of  its  democratic  tendencies,  because 
it  took  in  hand  the  cause  of  the  people  and 
dreamt  of  the  establishment  on  earth  of  a  social 
state  which  would  secure  comfort  and  happiness  for 
all.  Now  it  was  decried  as  Utopian  and  foolishly 
optimistic.  Its  faith  in  the  omnipotence  of  science 
was  derided,  and  it  was  denied  that  science  could 
ever  be  in  a  position  to  bring  back  paradise  on  earth. 
The  materialists  got  to  be  suspected  of  intellectual 
mediocrity  or  moral  dishonesty  because  they  refused 
to  understand,  as  Nietzsche  would  have  had  them 
do,  that  the  slavery  and  poverty  of  the  multitude  is 
21 


322     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

the  shameful  and  lamentable  side  of  every  civilisa- 
tion, and  because  they  tried  to  hide  the  bankruptcy 
of  their  beautiful  promises  by  extolling  the  dignity 
of  work,  and  proclaiming  that  it  was  nobler  to  earn 
one's  bread  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow  than  to  live 
in  idleness.  Banned  by  the  official  representatives 
of  philosophy  as  not  sufficiently  scientific,  materialism 
was  rejected  by  advanced  philosophers  as  being 
tainted  by  cowardice  and  "  Philistinism." 

Yet  it  is  true  that  its  credit  is  not  ruined — very 
far  from  it.  It  keeps  its  hold  over  the  Socialist 
masses,  and  from  this  point  of  view  it  remains  an 
important  factor  in  the  spiritual  life  of  Germany. 
Moreover,  at  intervals  it  springs  to  new  life  in  a 
rejuvenated  form,  and  the  immense  success  which 
the  works  of  Haeckel  have  attained  among  the  bulk 
of  the  public  is  a  sure  indication  that  materialism  has 
preserved  considerable  influence  over  a  very  large 
number  of  minds.  But  it  must  at  the  same  time  be 
pointed  out  that  this  triumph  from  the  point  of  view 
of  circulation  is  not  accompanied  by  any  success  in 
philosophical  "  estimation."  However  sympathetic 
and  respected  the  personality  of  Haeckel  himself  may 
be,  scientific  criticism  has  passed  very  severe  judg- 
ment upon  the  work  of  that  great  populariser.  It 
has  been  treated  as  a  "  philosophical  cypher  "  ;  and 
The  Riddle  of  the  Universe  is  mentioned  in  much  the 
same  tone  as  certain  widely  circulated  novels,  the 
material  triumph  of  which  is  placed  on  record,  whilst 
it  is  pointed  out  that  this  circumstance  does  no 
credit  to  the  German  reader,  but  merely  proves  the 
poverty  in  philosophical  culture  of  the  bulk  of  the 
public.  Generally  speaking,  it  may,  I  think,  be  said 
that  materialism  still  exercises  a  fascination  over 
the  masses  but  has  scarcely  any  hold  over  German 


FREE    THOUGHT  323 

intellect,  which  is,  apparently,  far  more  severe  upon 
it  than  French  public  opinion.  The  German  mind 
has  no  great  respect  for  any  conception  of  the  uni- 
verse which  it  regards  as  out  of  date,  unscientific, 
pretentiously  mediocre,  and  at  best  only  suitable  for 
the'  illiterate  masses,  or  the  half-educated,  who 
hastily  accept  the  oracles  of  a  sham  science. 

II 

Hegel  claimed  to  have  given  an  explanation,  in 
his  system,  of  the  rational  evolution  of  the  universe. 
Convinced  of  the  identity  of  thought  and  being, 
persuaded  that  ideas  do  not  merely  correspond  with 
reality  as  the  picture  does  to  the  model,  but  that 
ideas  are  the  very  essence  of  reality  and  that  the 
science  of  thought  or  logic  is  one  and  the  same  thing 
with  the  science  of  being  or  metaphysics,  he  thought 
he  could  give  a  fundamental  and  perfectly  satis- 
factory explanation  of  the  mystery  of  the  world. 
By  retracing  the  evolution  of  reason  which  raises 
itself  from  logic  to  the  philosophy  of  nature,  then  to 
the  philosophy  of  the  subjective  spirit  (psychology), 
and  subsequently  to  the  philosophy  of  the  objective 
spirit  (philosophy  of  law  and  of  history)  till  at  length 
it  reaches  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute  spirit 
(philosophy  of  art,  religion,  and  philosophy)  he 
thought  he  had  given  a  complete  description  of  the 
process  by  which  the  spirit  becomes  conscious  of 
itself  and  also  of  the  origin  of  the  universe  itself. 

In  opposition  to  this  metaphysical  dogmatism 
modern  positivism  came  into  existence  and  agreed 
with  materialism  in  substituting  for  the  speculative 
method  of  idealism  the  empirical  method  of  the  posi- 
tive sciences,  in  order  to  cast  doubt  upon  the  identity 


324     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

of  thought  and  being,   and  to  deny  any  objective 
value  to  the  grandiose  and  fragile  constructions  of 
speculative  reason.     But  whilst  in  the  place  of  the 
idealistic  dogmatism  of  Hegel  materialism  provided 
a  naturalistic  dogmatism  which  was  quite  as  peremp- 
tory in  its  assertions  and  claimed  in  its  turn  to  give 
a  metaphysical  explanation  of  the  world,  positivism 
brought    a    radical    scepticism    to    bear    against    all 
metaphysics,  and  proceeded  to  a  general  liquidation 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  past,  rejecting  as  defective 
and  devoid  of  scientific  value  all  former  attempts  to 
give  a  comprehensive  interpretation  of  the  universe. 
It  tended,  in  the  first  place,  to  supplant  in   philo- 
sophy the   speculative   method   of  the  great   repre- 
sentatives of  idealism  by  the    scrupulous  objective 
examination  of  reality — the  empirical  method,  which, 
when  applied  to  natural  science,  had  produced  such 
magnificent  results.     And  thus  there  grew  up  during 
the  nineteenth  century  a  psychology  which  became 
every  day  more  strictly  empirical.     The  way  for  it 
was  paved  by  Herbart,  and  above  all  by  Beneke,  and 
during  the  'fifties  and  'sixties  it  was  placed  on  its  feet 
by  the  fundamental  works  of  Ernst  Heinrich  Weber, 
Lotze,  Helmholz  and  Wundt,  and  afterwards  matured 
in  the  writings  of  men  like  Ebbinghaus,  Lipps,  Mach, 
Rehmke,    Hceffding    and    Paulsen.     To-day    it    is    a 
flourishing  science  based  upon  an  immense  number 
of  exact  observations,  and  is  still  accumulating  an 
ever    greater    mass    of    materials,    descriptions    and 
positive  facts,  with  the  object  of  instituting  a  com- 
plete natural  history  of  psychic  phenomena. 

And  at  the  same  time  as  positivism  is  aiming  at 
turning  philosophy  into  an  empirical  science  it  also 
tends,  on  the  other  hand,  to  make  a  clear  distinction 
between  problems  which  are  capable  of  receiving  a 


FREE    THOUGHT  325 

scientific  solution  and  those  which  remain    for   ever 
inaccessible  to  reason,  and  thus  to  define  precisely 
the  limits  beyond  which  it  is  impossible  for  human 
knowledge  to  go.     With  this  object  in  view  it  revived 
the  criticism  of  Kant,  whose  wise  prudence  it  con- 
trasts with  the  rashness  of  the  speculative  philosophy 
of  the  epoch  that  followed  him.     The   "  return  to 
Kant  "  was  announced  in  1847  by  Christian  Hermann 
Weisse,    preached   in    1862    by    Eduard    Zeller,    and 
afterwards  by  F.  Albert  Lange,  Otto  Liebmann  and 
Kuno  Fischer.     From  this  time  forward  a   Kantian 
criticism  arose  which  was  as  precise  and  detailed  as 
the  criticism  of  Goethe  ;    it  had  a  review  of  its  own, 
the  Kantstudien,  which  has  been  its  organ  ever  since 
1896,  and  since  1900  the  Berlin  Academy  of  Sciences 
has    been    bringing    out    a    monumental    annotated 
edition   of  Kant.     At  the   same  time  a  neo-critical 
school  has  been  organised.     Following  in  the  footsteps 
of  Kant  it  enunciates  the  principle    that    for    man 
there  is,  properly  speaking,  no  knowledge  outside  the 
bounds    of    experience,    and    that    consequently    no 
scientific  assertion  is  possible  about  things  in  them- 
selves    or    on     anything    transcendental.     It    thus 
rigorously  proscribes  all   metaphysics,   and  tends  to 
assign  to  philosophy,  as  its  essential  task,  the  criticism 
of    knowledge    and    the    determination    of    the    first 
principles   and  postulates    upon    which    the    exact 
sciences  are  founded.     Among  the  neo-Kantians  some, 
like   Lange,   Liebmann,   Hermann  Cohen  and  Alois 
Riehl,  remain  fairly  faithful  to  the  teaching  of  the 
master.     Others    stray    further    from    Kant's    philo- 
sophy.    Some,  like  Laas,  Schuppe,  Rehmke  and  von 
Schubert-Soldern,     follow    both    Hume    and     Kant. 
They  have  much  in  common  with  phenomenism,  and 
aim  at  proceeding  to  an  analysis,  which  shall  be  as 


326     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

exact  as  possible,  of  the  immediate  phenomena  of 
consciousness.  Others  like  Avenarius  and  E.  Mach, 
sketch  out  an  "  empiro-critical  "  system  which  is 
rigorously  hostile  to  all  metaphysics,  which  regards 
"  pure  experience,"  the  facts  of  our  immediate 
experience,  as  the  only  basis  of  a  science  of  objective 
reality,  endeavours  to  replace  man  in  the  midst  of 
nature  and,  finally,  attempts  to  project  some  light 
into  the  darkness  of  the  future  towards  which  our 
species  is  evolving. 

Positivism  is  certainly  far  superior  from  the 
scientific  point  of  view  to  materialism.  Idealism 
generally  reproaches  it  with  being  too  sceptical  with 
regard  to  reason  and  too  severely  suspicious  with 
respect  to  metaphysics.  It  accuses  positivism,  on  the 
one  hand,  of  not  always  succeeding  in  making  clear 
the  difference  between  that  which  is  a  certain  fact,  a 
demonstrable  truth,  and  that  which  is  a  speculative 
addition,  a  mere  hypothesis.  And  on  the  other  hand 
it  blames  it  for  its  critical  asceticism,  which  leads  it 
to  barricade  itself  behind  a  cautious  agnosticism 
with  regard  to  the  questions  which  most  interest  man- 
kind. If  one  is  to  believe  the  idealists,  mankind  is 
impelled  by  an  irresistible  metaphysical  necessity  to 
fashion  for  himself  at  all  costs  some  comprehensive 
conception  of  the  world.  But  the  positivist  absti- 
nence which  refuses  to  satisfy  this  legitimate  desire 
thereby  does  violence  to  an  instinct  which  is  deeply 
imbedded  in  human  nature.  Positivism  therefore 
cannot  be  the  last  word  in  wisdom,  but  is  perfectly 
explicable  as  a  reaction  against  the  intolerable  dog- 
matism of  Hegel.  It  will,  however,  remain  incapable, 
according  to  the  idealists,  of  stifling  the  need  for 
metaphysics  in  the  breast  of  man.  The  very  success 
of  materialism,  which  is  a  metaphysical  hypothesis — 


FREE    THOUGHT  327 

while  it  is  in  the  eyes  of  the  idealists  a  depressing 
symptom  of  the  mediocrity  of  the  philosophical  cul- 
ture of  our  day — is  at  least  also  an  indication  that 
the  necessity  for  metaphysics  has  not  been  abolished, 
but  that  it  has  taken  on  a  fresh  lease  of  life,  and 
seeks  to  satisfy  its  needs  by  producing  at  all  costs  a 
comprehensive  interpretation  of  the  universe. 

Thus  positivism,  it  is  said,  will  inevitably  remain 
the  property  of  a  small  group  of  distinguished  minds 
in  whom  the  critical  faculty  has  been  abnormally 
developed.  More  vigorous  temperaments  and  the 
mass  of  the  people  will  always  be  incapable  of  taking 
refuge  in  agnosticism,  and  will  of  necessity,  at  some 
given  moment,  feel  the  need  of  quitting  this  over- 
negative  and  over-cautious  position  in  order  to 
hazard  some  more  or  less  speculative  hypothesis  re- 
garding the  riddle  of  the  universe. 

The  Radicalism  of  our  own  day,  moreover,  sees 
in  this  positivist  abstinence  a  last  remainder  of  Chris- 
tian asceticism.  Nietzsche,  who  is  so  hard  upon 
materialism,  is  on  the  other  hand  full  of  respect  for 
the  positivists.  He  feels  no  contempt  for  "  these 
deniers,  these  lonely  ones  of  to-day,  .  .  .  these  hard, 
severe,  self-denying  and  heroic  spirits,  who  do  honour 
to  our  time,  .  .  .  these  last  idealists  of  knowledge, 
in  whom  alone  the  intellectual  consciousness  of  our 
day  resides  and  is  incarnate."  He  thinks  very  highly 
of  the  laudable  philosophical  abstinence  actuated  by 
such  a  belief,  of  this  "intellectual  stoicism  which  ends 
by  denying  itself  the  Nay  as  severely  as  the  Yea, 
this  determination  to  hold  by  positive  reality,  the 
factum  brutum,  the  petit  fait — this  renunciation  of  all 
interpretation,  of  all  that  savours  of  violence,  shuffling, 
abbreviation,  omission,  addition,  poetical  development 
and  falsification — in  short,  the  renunciation  of  all  that 


328  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

constitutes  the  essence  of  every  art  of  interpretation." 
But  he  also  maintains  that  this  will  to  truth  at  all 
costs,  this  belief  in  the  absolute  and  unqualified 
value  of  science  is  nothing  else  than  the  infinitely 
refined,  subtle  and  sublimated  form  of  the  ascetic 
Christian  spirit.  "  Our  faith  in  Science,"  he  con- 
cludes, "  is  still  founded  upon  a  metaphysical  belief ; 
and  we  too,  we  thinkers  of  to-day,  we  atheists  and 
anti-metaphysicians,  we  too  believe  in  this  faith 
which  inspires  us  to  that  form  of  incendiarism  which 
the  belief  of  ages  has  kindled,  to  that  Christian 
religion  which  was  also  the  religion  of  Plato,  that 
God  is  Truth  and  that  the  truth  is  divine.  ..." 

Thus  it  is  clear  that  for  Nietzsche  the  uncom- 
promising scientific  honesty  of  the  positivists  was 
simply  the  ultimate  manifestation,  spiritualised  and 
scarcely  recognisable,  of  the  religious  instinct. 
These  "  free  spirits  "  were  still  at  heart  Christians, 
as  they  had  not  yet  called  in  question  the  value  of 
truth  itself.  And  if  not  every  one  will  hasten  to  agree 
with  Nietzsche  that  they  are  not  yet  sufficiently 
"  freed,"  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  this  affords  a  simple 
explanation  of  the  fact  that  German  positivists  are, 
on  the  whole,  less  hostile  to  Christianity  than  the 
materialists,  and  are  fairly  frequently  inclined  to 
admit  the  possibility  and  the  desirability  of  an  agree- 
ment between  Faith  and  Science. 


Ill 

In  addition  to  materialism  and  positivism,  pes- 
simism is  undeniably  one  of  the  characteristic 
tendencies  of  the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

As  a  philosophical  doctrine,  the  pessimism  formu- 


FREE    THOUGHT  329 

lated  by  Schopenhauer  was,  as  we  know,  derived  from 
the  teaching  of  Kant,  and  is  thus  connected  with  the 
great  movement  of  German  idealism.  The  author 
of  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea  professed  a  monistic 
metaphysics  with  idealistic  tendencies.  But  he  defi- 
nitely separated  himself  from  his  predecessors  by 
denying  most  emphatically  that  reason  could  be  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  real,  and  that  the 
Absolute  was  identical  with  Being.  The  essence  of 
the  world  was  according  to  him  the  Will — but  not 
that  free  will  whose  evolution  towards  consciousness 
Fichte  delighted  in  describing.  The  Will  which 
Schopenhauer  placed  at  the  base  of  the  world,  which 
he  recognised  as  one  and  the  same  in  every  being, 
which  he  saw  asserting  itself  with  painful  energy 
in  the  whole  of  creation,  was  the  independent  Will 
of  time,  space  and  causality,  the  unconscious  Will 
without  a  purpose,  which  strove  and  desired  without 
ceasing,  but  which  could  never  find  lasting  satisfaction. 
This  Will  became  concrete  in  phenomena,  and  grew 
ever  sharper,  more  selfish  and  more  formidable  in 
proportion  as  it  attained  to  higher  forms.  Until  at 
last,  when  it  had  reached  the  supreme  heights  of 
consciousness,  the  Will  realised  that  its  blind  effort 
resulted  of  necessity  in  universal  suffering,  and  per- 
ceived through  the  illusion  of  individualisation  the 
fundamental  unity  behind  all  phenomena,  and  thus 
felt  all  sorrow  as  pertaining  to  itself.  It  thereby 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  nonentity  was  far  pre- 
ferable to  living,  and  by  one  supreme  effort  was 
converted,  abdicated  the  will-to-live,  and  sought  in 
the  great  peace  of  Nirvana  the  only  refuge  to  be 
found  from  the  unending  torture  of  life. 

This  pessimism  has  been  interpreted,  not  without 
some  plausibility,  as  the  last  legacy  of  Christianity 


330     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

which  was  on  the  point  of  dying  out.  The  great  task 
of  Christianity  had  been  to  provide  an  absolute 
meaning  and  goal  for  life.  The  desire  for  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  and  the  salvation  of  the  soul  had 
become  the  rule  of  life  for  the  Christian.  But  gradu- 
ally faith  in  this  goal  and  in  this  rule  of  life  grew 
weaker  in  men's  minds,  and  they  ceased  to  believe 
in  the  "  glad  tidings  "  brought  by  Christ.  But  al- 
though this  faith  in  the  promises  of  religion  slowly 
died  out,  there  still  survived  in  the  Christian  heart 
an  intensely  painful  need  to  find  a  meaning  for  life 
and  to  assign  to  it  a  definite  goal  towards  which  it 
might  progress.  This  ardent  desire  for  an  absolute 
purpose,  combined  with  the  radical  scepticism  with 
regard  to  the  real  existence  of  any  sort  of  purpose, 
had  its  logical  conclusion  in  the  pessimism  of  Schopen- 
hauer, and  the  hypothesis  of  a  meaningless  will-to- 
live  that  is  condemned  to  eternal  torture. 

It  was  only  in  the  second  half  of  the  century  that 
pessimism  found  a  favourable  soil  for  its  develop- 
ment. It  is  well  known  that  Schopenhauer's  chief 
work,  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  published  in  1819, 
remained  without  any  influence  over  public  opinion 
for  thirty  years,  that  it  was  ignored  by  the  bulk  of 
the  people,  and  despised  by  the  scientific  world.  It 
required  the  wreck  of  Hegelianism,  the  bankruptcy  of 
speculative  philosophy  and  of  optimistic  rationalism, 
the  epoch  of  depression  which  followed  the  failure 
of  the  Revolution  of  1848-49,  and  the  trials  of  all 
kinds  to  which  the  reactionary  period  exposed  the 
intellectual  minority  of  Germany,  but,  above  all, 
the  sufferings  which  the  development  of  the  system 
of  capitalistic  enterprise  entailed  for  multitudes,  the 
profound  uneasiness  which  the  economic  upheaval, 
the  increase  in   the  pace  of  life,   and  the  growing 


FREE    THOUGHT  331 

complexity  of  psychology,  produced  in  modern 
humanity,  for  the  publication  in  1851  of  the  Parerga 
and  Paralipomena  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  world 
upon  the  misanthropist  of  Frankfort. 

But  from  that  moment  pessimism  rapidly  gained 
ground,  and  spread  the  dark  waters  of  its  rising  tide 
far  and  wide  over  Germany  and  the  whole  world. 
It  invaded  philosophy,  literature  and  art.  The 
doctrines  of  pessimism  were  elaborated  after  Schopen- 
hauer by  Taubert,  Bahnsen,  Mainlasnder,  and  Vene- 
tianer,  but  aoove  all  by  Hartmann,  whose  Philosophy 
of  the  Unconscious  (1869)  won  a  brilliant  success  as 
soon  as  it  was  published,  though  after  a  short  inter- 
val it  fell  into  almost  entire  oblivion.  The  most 
illustrious  representative  of  pessimism  among  the 
poets  was  Heine,  who  at  the  very  end  of  his  days 
descended  to  the  weary  nihilism  of  the  Romancero 
and  the  Last  Poems.  In  these  verses  which  vibrate 
with  the  keenest  emotion  he  celebrates  the  inevitable 
defeat  of  all  beauty  and  of  all  grandeur,  and  finds 
his  only  semblance  of  comfort  in  a  piety  in  which  the 
sneers  of  a  bitter  and  exasperated  irony  are  mingled 
with  a  bottomless  despair.  During  the  'sixties 
Leopardi  became  one  of  the  favourite  poets  of  the 
rising  generation.  But  it  was  above  all  Richard 
Wagner  who  appeared  in  the  light  of  a  living  incar- 
nation of  this  new  tendency  in  the  German  mind. 
An  optimist  and  a  disciple  of  Feuerbach  before  1848, 
but  after  that  year  rapidly  disillusioned  by  the  failure 
of  his  revolutionary  hopes,  he  found  in  the  perusal 
of  Schopenhauer  the  revelation  which  enlightened 
him  upon  himself  and  his  own  inclinations.  And 
from  that  moment  absolute  renunciation,  the  abdica- 
tion of  the  selfish  will  to  live,  the  religion  of  suffering 
and  pity  became  the  deepest  sources  from  which  his 


332  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

inspiration  was  derived.  In  Tristan,  the  desperate 
desire  of  the  modern  soul  to  reach  Nirvana  and  the 
Night  that  sets  it  free,  the  great  peace  of  death  in 
which  all  the  painful  illusions  of  the  day  die  away, 
where  all  the  vain  torments  of  this  terrible  life 
are  ended,  was  expressed  with  tremendous  force 
and  undeniable  sincerity.  And  in  Parsifal  Wagner 
chanted  with  equal  fervour  the  ineffable  victories  of 
the  Will  over  itself,  the  infinite  value  of  redeeming 
pity  and  the  hope  for  a  regeneration  of  sinful  man 
through  resignation  and  asceticism. 

Little  by  little,  however,  the  spiritual  atmosphere 
of  Germany  cleared.  The  military  successes  of  1866 
and  1870,  the  magnificent  economic  rise  of  the 
country  and  the  advent  of  a  great  imperialist  and 
universal  policy  gave  birth  to  fresh  developments 
in  men's  minds.  The  period  of  depression  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  joyous  striving  for  power.  The  exalta- 
tion of  the  spirit  of  enterprise  no  longer  allowed  the 
world  to  be  regarded  as  a  meaningless  wilderness. 
Action  was  considered  of  higher  value  than  con- 
templation, and  thus  pessimism  gradually  became 
obsolete.  It  was  not  merely  opposed  by  optimists 
of  every  kind,  by  the  disciples  of  the  religion  of 
progress,  by  those  who  laboured  with  Marx  for  the 
advent  of  an  era  of  happiness  and  justice  among 
men,  and  by  all  who  believed  that  life  could  have  a 
meaning  and  humanity  a  mission.  It  was  rejected, 
or  rather  '  outgrown,"  by  the  very  minds  which 
showed  the  least  disposition  to  accept  consoling 
hypotheses  and  optimistic  interpretations.  Nietzsche 
placed  the  problem  of  the  value  of  existence  in  a 
fresh  light.  For  Schopenhauer,  life,  since  it  had 
neither  a  meaning  nor  an  object,  was  something 
absolutely  detestable  and  bad.     He  felt  in  the  pre- 


FREE    THOUGHT  833 

sence  of  the  will-to-live  that  instinctive  horror  which 
certain  delicate  and  timid  natures  experience  before 
any  manifestations  of  elementary  life.  He  had  not 
the  smallest  comprehension  of  that  festive  joy  which 
others  feel  in  similar  circumstances.  Nietzsche,  on 
the  other  hand,  had  learnt  from  Darwin  the  great 
fact  of  universal  evolution.  He  thereupon  saw  in 
the  idea  of  an  ascending  evolution  of  the  human 
species  a  conception  which  allowed  him  to  say  "  yea  " 
to  life  without  on  that  account  necessarily  believing 
in  the  existence  of  a  final  aim.  Life  is  holy,  not 
because  it  tends  to  any  particular  end,  but  in  itself, 
because  it  grows  and  increases  and  amplifies  itself. 
Far  from  regarding  it  with  repulsion,  like  Schopen- 
hauer, he  loved  it  with  a  joyous  and  almost  mystic 
exaltation.  He  saw  in  it  a  magnificent  festival,  an 
incomparable  adventure,  a  marvellous  joy.  In  his 
poet's  imagination,  the  Darwinian  theory  of  evolu- 
tion was  transfigured  into  that  vision  of  an  infinite 
ascent  to  power  which  he  celebrated  in  all  his  work 
with  such  splendid  lyric  beauty. 

What  became  of  pessimism  on  this  hypothesis  ? 
It  was  nothing  but  a  disease,  or,  more  correctly 
speaking,  the  typical  symptom  of  decadence.  There 
was  according  to  Nietzsche  a  "  pessimism  of  strength" 
which  points  out  the  road  to  power  and  beauty 
through  suffering.  But  the  weary  pessimism  which 
will  not  suffer  any  more  and  which  casts  aspersions 
upon  life  is  the  conception  of  the  decadent  in  whom 
the  vital  instinct  is  weak,  and  who  no  longer  feels 
within  himself  the  creative  force  to  beget  anything 
new.  The  pessimist  is  a  degenerate,  a  sick  man, 
who  must  either  get  well  or  go  away,  but  has  no 
business  to  poison  the  existence  of  healthy  men,  to 
demoralise    the    powerful    and    to    calumniate    life. 


A 


334     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Christianity,  the  democratic  movement,  Schopen- 
hauerian  pessimism,  and  Wagnerian  romanticism, 
were  in  Nietzsche's  eyes  so  many  manifestations  of 
this  decadence  and  this  weakening  of  vitality.  And 
he  combated  them  not  as  one  would  refute  an  error, 
but  as  one  fights  a  disease.  The  triumph  of  pessimism 
he  would  have  regarded  as  the  signal  for  a  great 
retrogression  on  the  part  of  humanity.  According  to 
him  it  was  necessary  for  the  present  day  to  eliminate 
this  poison  with  which  it  was  infected,  to  recover 
the  health  and  the  joy  in  life,  and  to  learn  to  say 
'  Yea  "  to  life,  to  the  whole  of  life,  including  suffer- 
ing and  evil. 

And  gradually  towards  the  end  of  the  century  the 
worship  of  life  spread  further  and  further.  The  idea 
that  life  by  its  very  essence  and  on  account  of  its 
fundamental  energies  is  something  which  is  capable 
of  eternally  "  surpassing  itself  "  and  of  evolving  ever 
higher  forms,  the  faith  in  the  development  which  is 
not  necessary,  but  quite  possible,  of  the  type  man, 
and  the  will  to  participate  as  energetically  as  pos- 
sible in  this  ascent  to  power  are  becoming  more  and 
more  prevalent  among  modern  men.  These  ten- 
dencies found  their  most  fundamental  and  charac- 
teristic poetical  and  philosophical  expression  in  the 
doctrines  of  Nietzsche,  about  which  we  must  now 
say  a  few  words. 

IV 

"  We  immoralists,"  said  Nietzsche  in  his  Will  to 
Power,  "  we  are  the  most  advanced.'''  And  he  per- 
fectly well  understood  that  this  "  magic  of  the 
extreme  '  was  doubtless  the  subtle  and  somewhat 
perverse  charm  which  drew  to  him  the  spirits  of  his 
contemporaries. 


FREE    THOUGHT  335 

Nietzsche  was  the  incarnation  of  that  profound 
mistrust  experienced  by  the  nineteenth  century  for 
every  religious  interpretation  of  the  universe  and 
for  all  the  comforting  hypotheses  in  which  humanity 
had  till  then  found  consolation.  The  modern  man 
is  afraid  of  being  deceived  ;  he  will  not  allow  himself 
to  be  taken  in  by  his  desire  for  beauty  and  goodness, 
kindness  and  happiness  ;  he  aspires  to  look  reality 
in  the  face  without  any  illusions.  Nietzsche  experi- 
enced this  feeling  in  the  highest  degree.  He  en- 
deavoured not  only  to  form  a  theoretical  conception 
but  also  to  realise  and  live  in  spirit  by  the  hypothesis, 
which  was  most  diametrically  opposed  to  the  Chris- 
tian idea  and  to  every  optimistic  philosophy — the 
hypothesis  that  "  God  is  dead,"  the  nihilistic  idea 
of  a  universe  without  a  God,  without  unity,  without 
law,  and  without  any  permanent  substance — an 
absolute  phenomenism  in  which  the  only  reality  is 
a  process  of  Becoming  which  is  quite  callous  and 
devoid  of  meaning.  The  psychological  penetration, 
the  superhuman  energy  and  the  concentrated  passion 
with  which  he  gave  himself  up  to  this  formidable 
task,  are  his  titles  to  a  great  and  important  position 
in  the  history  of  thought  during  the  nineteenth 
century.  It  is  possible,  of  course,  to  "  lay  a  wager  " 
against  the  nihilistic  hypothesis,  as  Pascal  and  Fichte, 
for  instance,  did.  It  is  also  possible  to  condemn 
the  solution  proposed  by  Nietzsche  in  order  to  escape 
from  pessimistic  nihilism.  But  the  most  elementary 
intellectual  honesty  commands  us  at  least  to  examine 
this  possibility  in  all  its  bearings,  if  only  in  order 
to  win  the  right  of  rejecting  it  with  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  subject.  Whatever  objective  value  we  may 
assign  to  Nietzsche's  theories,  we  can  but  render 
homage  to  the  bravery  with  which  he  threw  himself 


336  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

entirely,  heart  and  soul,  into  the  hazardous  intel- 
lectual adventure  which  ended  in  that  most  tragic 
catastrophe,  the  loss  of  his  reason. 

Moral  optimism  demands  that  the  universe  and 
humanity  should  have  a  law,  a  final  goal  towards 
which  they  should  progress ;  and  man,  by  virtue  of 
time-established  custom,   has  learnt    to  rise  in  his 
own   estimation   in   proportion   as   he   conforms   his 
actions  to  this  law  and  thus  feels  himself  a  collabo- 
rator with  God.     But,  according  to  Nietzsche,  this  is 
an   illusion   which   is   gradually   dissipated   as   man 
grows  more  self-conscious.     In  the  beginning  man 
believed  that  at  the  head  of  the  universe  there  was 
a  supreme  legislator,  and  regarded  the  moral  law  as 
the  expression  of  the  will  of  the  Lord  of  the  world. 
Then  gradually  he   arrived   at  the  conviction  that 
'  God  was  dead  "  and  that  the  world  had  no  master. 
Whereupon  he  searched  feverishly  for  a  substitute 
for  God,  for  some  power  that  was  capable  of  laying 
down   the   law   and   of    authoritatively   imposing   a 
mission  upon  man.     Instead  of  a  personal  God  he 
tried  worshipping  the   "  moral  consciousness  "   and 
its  categorical  imperative,  or  Reason,  or  the  "  social 
instinct  "  of  "  history  "   and  the  laws  it  contained  ; 
he  found  a  goal  for  human  life  in  "  happiness,"  or 
in  the   "  happiness   of   the   greatest   number."     Or, 
again,    he    resigned    himself  to   agnosticism,    main- 
taining   all  the    while    that    evolution   must    "  lead 
somewhere,  no  matter  whither."     Finally,  after  one 
deception  and  another,  man  discovered  that  Becom- 
ing  led   nowhere,    but   merely   unfurled   its   infinite 
and    senseless    combinations    by    pure    chance.     At 
the  end  of  this  path  nihilism  stared  him  in  the  face  : 
"  Life — something  which  understands  its  nothingness, 
and  in  the  end  suppresses  itself." 


FREE    THOUGHT  337 

Scientific  optimism  posited  harmony  between 
thought  and  reality,  and  demanded  for  man  the 
hope  of  being  able  to  form  a  more  and  more  satis- 
factory image  of  the  universe.  ;'  Illusion  again," 
answered  Nietzsche.  Becoming  is  unthinkable.  There 
is  in  reality  neither  a  thinking  "  subject "  nor 
"  things  "  thought,  neither  "  identical  things  "  nor 
cause  and  effect,  nothing  stable,  permanent  or 
regular.  All  our  knowledge  of  the  universe  is  founded 
upon  a  series  of  fundamental  errors,  upon  an  aggre- 
gate of  fictions  which  are  useful  to  life,  upon  a  tre- 
mendous falsification  of  reality.  But  the  instinct  for 
knowledge,  which  in  its  extreme  form  is  the  will  to 
truth  at  all  costs,  becomes,  when  it  tries  to  dissipate 
this  useful  biological  phantasmagoria,  a  power  which 
is  destructive  to  life — a  form  of  nihilism. 

Metaphysical  optimism  asserted  that  behind  "  the 
world  of  phenomena,"  behind  the  stream  of  Becoming 
there  lay  a  "  true  world,"  the  final  home  and  last 
refuge  of  the  human  soul.  But  soon  this  illusion 
too  was  dissipated.  Man  confessed  that  he  himself, 
through  his  desire  for  eternity,  was  the  author  of  this 
"  true  world,"  and  that  he  had  fashioned  this  life 
merely  in  order  to  believe  himself  immortal.  And 
from  that  moment  intellectual  honesty  compelled 
him  to  forgo  all  faith  in  a  metaphysical  reality  or  in 
things  or  in  himself,  and  he  knew  no  other  reality 
but  Becoming. 

Thus  we  see  what  nihilism  meant  in  Nietzsche's 
eyes.  Man  began  by  distorting  reality  in  conformity 
with  his  own  needs.  He  wished  the  world  to  de- 
velop towards  an  end  appointed  by  God ;  he  wanted 
it  to  be  subjected  to  fixed  and  well-organised  laws, 
an  immutable  eternal  substance  free  from  change 
and  death.  And  he  saw  and  imagined  the  universe 
22 


338     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

as  he  wished  it  to  be.  He  valued  reality  in  proportion 
as  it  corresponded  to  this  conception  of  his  mind. 
And  then  gradually  he  realised  that  he  had  been  the 
victim  of  an  illusion.  He  therefore  corrected  the 
image  of  the  world  he  had  made  for  himself,  and 
stripped  reality  of  the  qualities  with  which  he  had 
authoritatively  endowed  it.  But  the  universe  im- 
mediately lost  its  charm.  Man  loved  the  lie  to 
which  he  had  given  birth.  Reality — Becoming  in 
eternal  motion,  changeable  and  void  of  sense — seemed 
hateful  to  him.  Whereupon  he  was  faced  by  a  formid- 
able dilemma  and  he  found  himself,  to  use  Nietzsche's 
expression,  obliged  "  to  destroy  either  his  table  of 
values  or  himself."  For,  if  the  table  of  values  by 
virtue  of  which  he  loves  a  fictitious  world  and  con- 
demns the  real  world  is  correct  and  legitimate,  it  is 
obvious  that  the  nihilist  should  logically  detest  and 
try  to  destroy  this  bad  reality.  But  if  on  the  con- 
trary the  table  of  values  is  a  fictitious  one,  it  is 
none  the  less  evident  that  the  judgment  passed  by 
it  upon  reality  is  also  erroneous,  and  should  be 
rejected  ;  in  this  case  he  must  revise  his  table  of 
values  from  top  to  bottom,  he  must  proceed,  accord- 
ing to  Nietzsche's  celebrated  formula,  to  a  "  trans- 
valuation   of   all    values." 

This  transvaluation  Nietzsche  urges  men  to  make. 
The  hypothesis  he  proposes  to  induce  them  to  do  so 
is  well  known. 

The  table  of  values  in  the  name  of  which  the  nihil- 
istic pessimist  condemns  reality  and  adores  fiction 
is  the  product  of  "  decadence."  The  belief  in  a 
metaphysical  world  beyond  Becoming,  the  faith  in  a 
world  of  Being,  of  finality  and  of  unity — in  other 
words  the  Christian  faith,  for  according  to  Nietzsche 
it  is  Christianity  that  embodies  this  conception  of  life 


FREE    THOUGHT  339 

— is  essentially  a  consolatory  fiction  by  means  of 
which  a  crowd  of  degenerates,  weaklings  and  wretches 
have  provided  themselves  with  a  plausible  interpreta- 
tion of  their  sufferings,  and  have  hidden  from  their 
own  eyes  the  sight  of  their  weakness  and  decay.  Take 
away  this  "  vital  falsehood,"  place  them  face  to  face 
with  reality  with  all  its  ugliness  and  misery,  and 
these  people  would  succumb  to  despair.  Very 
different  is  the  outlook  upon  the  world  on  the  part 
of  the  Strong,  who  have  a  superabundance  of  health 
and  energy.  Why  should  the  spectacle  of  Becoming 
without  end  inspire  them  with  fear  and  horror  ?  If 
the  decadent  rejects  it  with  terror,  it  is  because,  con- 
scious as  he  is  of  his  own  degeneracy,  he  feels  the  need 
of  thinking  himself  a  collaborator  with  God,  in  order 
to  believe  his  own  value  ;  because  he  has  not  the 
strength  to  give  a  meaning  to  life  and  to  lay  down 
his  own  law.  But  the  Man  of  Power  who  feels  his 
own  creative  energy  and  knows  that  he  is  able  to 
give  a  form  to  the  "  chaos  "  of  Becoming,  and  can 
impose  his  own  law  upon  a  callous  life-force,  who  has 
faith  in  his  will  to  organise  the  universe,  can  also 
accept  without  revolt  the  idea  that  universal  evolu- 
tion should  be  meaningless  in  itself.  His  nihilism, 
instead  of  being  pessimistic,  is  Dionysian.  The 
spectacle  of  Becoming,  the  hypothesis  of  eternal  re- 
currence, which  is  so  crushing  for  the  weak,  becomes 
a  triumphant  and  intoxicating  vision  for  the  creator 
who  has  succeeded  in  giving  a  meaning  to  life  and  in 
saying  "  Yea  "  to  the  eternal  recurrence  of  Becoming. 
In  short,  European  nihilism  was,  in  Nietzsche's 
eyes,  a  decisive  and  salutary  crisis.  By  dissipating 
the  mirage  with  which  Christianity  and  Christian 
philosophy  had  surrounded  reality,  it  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  an  extremely  powerful  selective  agent. 


340     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

It  was  the  touchstone  by  which  to  test  the  strong  and 
the  weak,  healthy  men  and  decadents.  The  latter 
it  would  break,  and  help  them  to  disappear  more 
quickly,  which  would  be  an  advantage  alike  to  them- 
selves and  to  the  world  at  large.  But  it  would  inspire 
the  courage  of  the  others  and  fill  them  with  fresh 
enthusiasm  for  the  conquest  of  power  and  for  the 
infinite  development  of  the  type  man. 

Thus  we  see  how,  in  the  philosophy  of  Nietzsche, 
the  principal  tendencies  which  predominated  in  the 
nineteenth  century  are  asserted  and  exalted. 

The  modern  man  believes  in  the  organising  power 
of  the  human  will  and  intelligence.  Nietzsche  pro- 
claims that  the  man  of  genius  is  the  creator  of  all 
values,  that  he  determines  good  and  evil,  that  he 
creates  "  truth  "  itself  and  gives  a  meaning  to  Be- 
coming. Superman  takes  the  place  left  empty  by 
the  death  of  God  :  "  Superman  is  the  meaning  of  the 
world,"  says  Zarathustra.  "  Your  will  should  say  : 
Let  Superman  be  the  meaning  of  the  world."  l 

The  modern  man  has  learnt  to  disbelieve  in  miracles 
-2. )  and  grows  more  and  more  sceptical  with  regard  to 
the  Christian  conception,  which  subjects  man  and 
the  universe  to  the  will  of  God,  and  he  is  also  exceed- 
ingly doubtful  about  a  Church  in  which  he  sees 
a  power  which  is  supremely  hostile  to  human  free- 
dom. Nietzsche  loudly  proclaims  his  uncompromising 
hatred  of  Christianity.  God  is  only  a  creation  on  the 
part  of  human  suffering  and  weakness,  a  mirage 
which  will  vanish  as  soon  as  man  has  regained  his 

1  For  the  benefit  of  all  those  who  are  unacquainted  with 
Nietzsche's  philosophy  it  should  be  noted  that  behind  the  idea 
of  the  Superman  no  new  physiological  species  was  anticipated  by 
Nietzsche,  but  merely  a  "  Ruler -man  " — a  man  superior  in  spirit 
and  will  to  his  fellows  and  with  power  and  capacity  to  govern 
them. — Te. 


J\     S        WLX^-T 


y 


e 


FREE    THOUGHT  341 

health  and  learnt  to  realise  the  energies  he  hides 
within  himself.  Christianity  is  the  great  conspiracy 
of  the  miserable  and  the  "  physiologically  botched  " 
against  the  strong  and  powerful  ;  it  is  the  gigantic 
lie  by  means  of  which  decadents  have  attempted  to 
poison  the  intellectual  and  moral  atmosphere  of 
Europe  ;  it  is  the  terrible  virus  which,  if  its  effects 
became  universal,  would  turn  the  world  into  a  laza- 
retto ;  it  is,  in  the  scornful  words  of  the  Antichrist, 
"  the  one  immortal  blemish  of  mankind.   .  .  ." 

The  modern  man  is  inclined  to  intellectual  and 
moral  scepticism  ;  he  is  a  pessimist,  full  of  suspicion 
with  regard  to  all  consolatory  hypotheses,  and  he 
remains  in  a  state  of  perplexity  before  the  threatening 
problem  of  suffering.  Nietzsche  pushes  his  scepticism 
to  the  point  of  nihilism.  He  professes  the  most 
radical  form  of  phenomenism.  His  "  immorality  " 
realises  that  vices  and  virtues  proceed  from  the  same 
source  ;  that  man,  in  order  to  develop,  must  inevit- 
ably grow  both  in  good  and  evil,  just  as  a  tree  plunges 
its  roots  all  the  more  deeply  into  the  ground  the  more 
proudly  it  lifts  its  branches  in  the  air  ;  that  the 
superior  type  of  the  human  race  is  not  the  "  good  " 
man  of  the  old  traditional  morality,  but  the  powerful 
man  who  can  endure  without  being  broken  "that 
tension  of  the  antagonistic  elements  "  in  human 
nature,  and  sums  up  in  his  own  harmonious  and 
complex  personality  the  two  contradictory  aspects 
of  life,  its  creative  force  and  its  destructive  power. 
Lastly,  Nietzsche  is  a  profound  pessimist  inasmuch 
as  he  holds  an  essentially  "  combative  "  and  "  tragic  " 
view  of  life.  But  his  Dionysian  nihilism,  instead  of 
allowing  itself  to  be  depressed  by  the  formidable 
vision  of  senseless  Becoming  and  eternal  human 
suffering,  finds  in  this  very  spectacle  a  cause  of  en- 


342  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

thusiasm.  His  "  pessimism  of  strength  "  recognises 
that  suffering  and  evil  have  no  need  of  justification, 
and  that  evil  is  the  necessary  "  complement  "  of  good. 
And  he  finally  ends  by  the  whole-hearted  acceptance 
of  human  destiny,  and  with  an  enthusiastic  hymn  to 
life,  with  all  its  magnificence  and  cruelty — prolific 
and  devouring  life,  which  incessantly  and  without 
pity  destroys  its  own  creations,  and  yet  remains  ever- 
lastingly the  same,  indestructible,  constantly  reborn, 
eternally  young  and  fair. 


The  influence  of  Nietzsche  upon  the  German  thought 
of  to-day  has  been  considerable.  The  nobility  of  his 
moral  nature,  his  magnificent  intrepidity  of  thought, 
his  infectious  passion  as  an  apostle  and  a  prophet 
have  won  respect  from  all.  Even  those  who  were 
most  diametrically  opposed  to  his  tendencies,  the 
Christians  and  the  Socialists,  could  not  refuse  to 
grant  him  their  esteem,  and  brought  themselves  at 
least  partially  to  assimilate  his  ideas.  A  Protestant 
pastor  has  written  Zarathustra  Sermons,  and  a  militant 
Socialist  has  endeavoured  to  adapt  to  the  needs  of 
the  people  the  aristocratic  thought  of  the  three  great 
hermits  of  art  and  philosophical  meditation — Schopen- 
hauer, Wagner  and  Nietzsche.  The  prophet  of  the 
Will  to  Power  and  the  Superman  is  not  only  admired 
as  a  great  poet,  a  psychologist  of  the  first  rank,  and  a 
profound  connoisseur  of  the  human  heart,  but  he  has 
also  had  great  influence  as  an  initiator  into  the  life 
of  the  spirit. 

Yet  to  what  extent  has  this  influence  been  a  pro- 
found, a  widespread  and  durable  one  ?  It  is,  in  my 
opinion,  very  difficult  to  decide  this  point  as  yet. 


FREE    THOUGHT  343 

The  outside  observer  is  clearly  convinced  that 
Nietzsche  cannot  stand  as  the  typical  mouthpiece  of 
the  aspirations  which  are  to-day  predominant  in  Ger- 
many. He  is  a  brilliant  exception,  an  extraordinary 
"  case  "  which  is  studied  and  admired.  But  I  should 
be  very  much  surprised  to  find  that  the  number  of 
those  who  go  to  him  for  rules  of  conduct  and  an 
interpretation  of  life  is  very  great.  It  seems  to  me 
that  he  is  still  or  has  once  more  become  "  out  of 
season,"  to  use  his  own  well-known  expression. 

'  Modern  Germany,"  says  Nietzsche,  "  represents 
such  an  enormous  store  of  inherited  and  acquired 
capacity,  that  for  some  time  it  might  spend  this 
accumulated  treasure  even  with  some  prodigality. 
It  is  no  superior  culture  that  has  ultimately  become 
prevalent  with  this  modern  tendency,  nor  is  it  by  any 
means  delicate  taste,  or  noble  beauty  of  the  instincts, 
but  rather  a  number  of  virtues  more  manly  than 
any  that  other  European  countries  can  show.  An 
amount  of  good  spirits  and  self-respect,  plenty  of 
firmness  in  human  relations  and  in  the  reciprocity 
of  duties  ;  much  industry  and  much  perseverance, 
and  a  certain  inherited  soberness  which  is  much  more 
in  need  of  a  spur  than  of  a  brake.  Let  me  add  that 
in  this  country  people  still  obey  without  feeling 
that  obedience  humiliates.  And  no  one  despises  his 
opponent."  x 

What  has  this  modern  Germany,  which  is  by  no 
means  decadent,  this  somewhat  ponderous,  robust, 
and  well-disciplined  Germany,  with  her  magnificent 
army,  her  solid  administration,  her  strong  organisa- 
tion of  scientific  work,  her  powerful  industrial  and 

1  This  English  rendering  is  taken  from  Dr.  Oscar  Levy's 
Authorised  English  Translation  of  Nietzsche's  Complete  Works. 
(See  The  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  p.   50). — Tr. 


344  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

commercial  activity,  her  great  schemes  of  insurance 
■I  and  social  forethought — what  has  she  to  do  with 
Nietzschean  Radicalism  ?  Nietzsche,  who  had  small 
admiration  for  the  new  Empire,  said  about  it : 
"  Power  stupefies."  And  this  new  Germany  on  her 
part  pays  but  scant  courtesy  to  the  Superman.  At 
times  she  rejects  Nietzsche  with  horror.  At  others 
she  despises  him  as  a  "  dilettante  "  who  did  not 
master  any  science  fundamentally  and  in  detail.  Or 
else  she  politely  pays  him  the  tribute  of  homage 
due  to  a  national  celebrity,  but  seeks  elsewhere  for 
inspiration  and  guidance.  She  disapproves  of  the 
uncompromising  thoroughness  with  which  he  pushes 
his  ideas  to  their  most  extreme  logical  conclusions. 
She  sees  in  him  a  romantic  exaggeration  with  which 
a  few  idealists  and  men  of  letters  can  toy,  but  which 
remains  extremely  problematical  and  has  no  future 
before  it.  At  heart  this  practical  and  positive  Ger- 
many seems  but  little  disposed  to  indulge  in  any 
extremes,  either  in  the  domain  of  action  or  of  thought. 
We  have  already  seen  how  in  politics  she  sought 
out  moderate  solutions,  provisional  compromises 
between  the  monarchical  and  democratic  principles, 
between  nationalism  and  imperialism,  between  the 
interests  of  the  agrarian  Conservatives  and  the  in- 
dustrial middle  classes,  between  those  of  capitalistic 
enterprise  and  the  working  masses.  By  its  very 
nature,  this  Germany  is  not,  apparently,  "  Radical," 
and  it  seems  to  me,  that  in  the  spiritual  sphere  as 
well,  any  extreme  solutions,  such  as  those  advanced 
by  Nietzsche,  appear  picturesque  but  improbable  in 
her  eyes,  and  she  does  not  take  them  altogether 
seriously. 

We  have  already  seen,  on  the  other  hand,  how  the 
Germany  of  to-day,  which  is  so  realistic,  so  tenacious 


FREE    THOUGHT  345 

in  her  struggle  for  power  and  wealth,  has  proclaimed 
a  fresh  return  to  idealism,  a  new  aspiration  for  a  high 
culture,  and  a  will  for  social  justice  and  charity.  But 
this  reactionary  movement  against  the  utilitarian 
realism  of  the  second  half  of  the  century  is  not 
apparently  tending  in  the  direction  of  Nietzsche's 
ideas.  It  is  true  that  the  poet  of  Zarathustra  is  in 
a  certain  sense  a  "  romantic,"  an  opponent  of  intel- 
lectualism  and  even,  in  spite  of  his  atheism,  a  highly 
religious  nature—"  the  most  pious  of  all  them  that 
believe  not  in  God,"  as  Zarathustra  says.  And  in 
this  respect  he  is  certainly  a  representative  of  the 
new  idealism.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  not 
be  forgotten,  that  this  romanticist  has  judged  and 
condemned  romanticism  with  the  utmost  vigour, 
that  this  profoundly  religious  spirit  has  proclaimed 
with  all  the  energy  at  his  command  and  with  pas- 
sionate conviction  the  absolute  bankruptcy  of  Chris- 
tianity and  every  religious  ideal.  And  on  this  point 
he  has  not  been  followed  by  his  countrymen. 

On  the  contrary,  the  characteristic  feature  of  the 
last  few  years  seems  to  be  a  renaissance,  in  Germany, 
of  a  certain  religious  mysticism,  which  is  revealed  by 
a  series  of  significant  symptoms  :  the  victorious 
resistance  of  Catholicism  to  the  Kalturkampf,  the 
political  triumph  of  the  Centre  ;  the  growth  of  a  new 
Catholic  literature  and  philosophy ;  and  in  the 
Protestant  camp  the  success  of  the  "  social  evan- 
gelical "  party  and  its  effort  to  fashion  out  of  Christian 
thought  some  principle  of  social  policy.  And  the 
renewal  of  the  vitality  of  the  churches  is  not  the 
only  symptom  of  this  movement.  The  lay  world  is 
also  lured  into  participating  in  this  new  tendency. 
A  breath  of  vague  and  mystic  idealism  suffuses  novels 
and    plays,   from    Hauptmann's    Sunken    Bell    and 


346  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Sudermann's  Johannes  to  Rosegger's  Gottsucher.  As 
was  the  case  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  men  are  apparently  seeking  a  "  new  God." 
Criticism  is  plunging  with  growing  curiosity  into  the 
history  of  German  romanticism  and  is  analysing  its 
religious  idealism  with  a  sympathetic  spirit.  And 
the  bulk  of  the  public  is  seeking  food  for  its  need 
of  religious  emotion  in  books  like  Harnack's  Essence 
of  Christianity. 

And  what  precisely  does  this  neo-romanticism 
which  is  not  peculiar  to  Germany,  and  the  symptoms 
of  which  are  to  be  found  everywhere  in  Europe, 
signify  ?  Is  it  a  sincere  revival  of  traditional  re- 
ligious beliefs — a  vague  homesickness  for  the  lost 
paradises  of  faith  ?  Or  is  it  something  less  than 
this — a  mere  literary  vogue  which  will  die  like  the 
fashion  for  naturalism  and  symbolism  ?  People  will 
lean  to  one  or  other  of  these  interpretations  in 
accordance  with  their  own  convictions  and  impres- 
sions. But  the  significance  of  this  movement, 
especially  in  Germany,  can  certainly  not  be  regarded 
as  negligible.  It  is  clear,  at  all  events,  that  this 
neo-romantic  atmosphere  is  not  favourable  to  the 
diffusion  of  an  anti- Christian  radicalism.  Germany 
seems  quite  as  little  inclined  to  cast  Christianity 
finally  aside  in  the  spiritual  domain  as  to  reject  the 
monarchical  principle  in  the  sphere  of  actual  life. 
She  seeks  to  amend  rather  than  to  destroy.  She  is 
of  the  opinion  that  each  of  the  two  antagonistic 
principles  contains  an  element  of  truth,  and  en- 
deavours to  reconcile  them  rather  than  to  eliminate 
one  by  an  arbitrary  and  violent  process  of  simplifica- 
tion. 

And  it  is  for  this  reason  that  I  am  doubtful  whether 
Nietzsche,  in  spite  of  his  admirable  moral  nobility 


FREE    THOUGHT  347 

and  his  genius,  is  really,  in  the  eyes  of  the  present 
generation  in  Germany,  the  prophet  of  a  new  era. 
People  believe  in  the  advent  of  a  new  idealism. 
They  believe  that  Germany,  after  her  military  and 
economic  successes,  is  to-day  marching  towards  an 
artistic,  philosophical,  and  moral  renaissance.  They 
hope  for  the  swift  return  of  an  epoch  of  "  classical  " 
culture,  which  will  be  steadier  and  more  balanced 
than  the  age  of  feverish  and  hasty  transition  in 
which  we  are  at  present  living.  After  the  violent 
and  often  anarchical  struggle  of  the  individual 
towards  power,  wealth,  and  scientific  utilitarian 
rationalism,  men  began  to  aspire  towards  a  new 
"  order,"  more  stable  in  all  its  departments,  in  the 
domain  of  actuality  as  well  as  in  that  of  thought. 
Average  public  opinion  in  Germany  does  not  demand 
war  to  the  knife  against  the  old  powers,  but  rather 
a  happy  compromise  between  the  tendencies  of  the 
past  and  the  present. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  master  whom 
those  who  have  undertaken  to  draw  up  the  balance- 
sheet  of  the  century  proclaim  most  loudly  is  Goethe. 
To  the  radically  uncompromising  attitude  and  the 
"  combative  "  philosophy  of  the  prophet  of  Super- 
man they  prefer  the  rule  of  tolerance,  fair  intellectual 
and  moral  equilibrium,  and  the  marvellous  self- 
possession  of  the  sage  of  Weimar.  It  is  under  his 
/Patronage  that  they  would  place  the  German  cul- 
ture of  the  future.  And  indeed  they  could  not  find 
a  better  one.  Let  us  accept  the  omen  and  wish,  for 
our  part  also,  that  the  Germany  of  to-morrow  may 
become  more  and  more  a  Germany  "  according  to 
Goethe." 


BOOK   IV 
EVOLUTION  IN  ART 


349 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    VALUE    OF    ART 


At  the  same  time  as  the  anti-rationalist  reaction 
which  set  in  towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  gradually  gave  religious  sentiment  the  pre- 
cedence of  theoretical  reason,  it  also  tended  to  place 
art  at  the  head  of  the  tables  of  values. 

The  era  of  enlightenment  had  but  a  mediocre 
comprehension  of  the  nature  of  art.  Absolutely  per- 
suaded of  the  sovereign  power  of  reason,  it  saw  in 
art,  not  an  end  in  itself,  but  merely  a  convenient 
instrument  for  communicating  to  the  multitude 
certain  philosophical  or  moral  truths  in  an  agreeable 
form.  And,  moreover,  it  formed  a  mechanical  and, 
as  a  rule,  somewhat  primitive  conception  of  artistic 
creations.  It  compared  the  poet,  the  painter  or  the 
musician  to  clever  craftsmen  who  fashion  more  or 
less  successful  articles  according  to  whether  or  not 
they  have  imitated  good  models  and  used  the  best 
means  prescribed  by  their  craft.  Hence  the  pre- 
sumptuous indiscretion  with  which  the  critic  allowed 
himself  to  domineer  over  the  artist,  to  formulate 
theoretical  rules  for  the  creation  of  masterpieces, 
and  to  judge  whether  the  works  were  beautiful  or 
not — that  is  to  say,  whether  they  were  in  conformity 
with  these  rules. 

351 


352  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

But  modern  subjectivism  repudiated  this  mechan- 
istic interpretation.  Like  the  majority  of  the  great 
creations  of  the  human  spirit,  like  religion  and 
language,  morality  and  law,  poetry  and  art  did  not 
seem  to  it  the  products  of  reflection  and  intelligence, 
but  were  rather  organisms  which  were  born  and 
developed,  which  prospered  or  died  by  virtue  of  the 
germ  of  vitality  within  them,  organisms  which  de- 
manded care  and  respect  as  living  entities,  and 
which  must  only  be  touched  with  a  wise  precaution, 
if  they  were  not  to  wither  away  immediately.  The 
work  of  art,  therefore,  was  no  longer  regarded  as  a 
product  of  human  industry.  Quite  the  contrary. 
The  work  which  seemed  to  be  the  fruit  of  a  too  self- 
conscious  art,  that  was  over-clever  in  calculating  its 
effects,  was  now  condemned.  A  masterpiece  was  not 
made,  but  born.  It  was  a  living  organism  brought 
into  the  world  by  the  genius,  in  virtue  of  an  inner 
necessity.  In  the  act  of  artistic  creation  the  genius 
was  unconscious  and  in  a  sense  passive.  He  was 
compared  to  the  woman  with  child,  to  the  bee  that 
secretes  honey,  to  the  bird  that  sings,  to  the  somnam- 
bulist who  succeeds  in  his  perilous  climbing.  Hence 
also  the  predilection  of  the  age  for  works  in  which 
the  art  was  quite  spontaneous  and  even  anonymous, 
and  which  seemed  to  be  the  creation  not  of  one 
individual  but  of  an  epoch,  a  race,  a  tribe  ;  hence 
the  taste  for  popular  poetry— whether  real  or 
spurious — for  Macpherson-Ossian  as  much  as  for  the 
old  English  and  Scotch  songs,  for  Homer,  or  the 
poets  of  the  Bible. 

At  the  same  moment  as  the  Germans  learnt  to 
conceive  of  art  as  a  living  organism,  they  also  dis- 
covered in  ancient  Greece  the  classic  land  of  beauty. 

The  old  humanism  had  set  itself  the  task  of  con- 


Sy^JL 


t 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  353 

tinuing  the  work  of  classical  antiquity  and  of  Roman 
antiquity  in  particular,  and  thus  of  making  the 
student  capable  of  writing  and  philosophising  like 
the  ancients.  Neo-Hellenism  in  the  form  in  which 
it  was  revived  in  the  German  universities  of  the 
eighteenth  century  under  the  guidance  of  such  masters  ^ 
as  Gesner  and  Heyne,  had  very  different  aims.  It 
no  longer  wished  to  imitate  antiquity  ;  it  simply 
aimed  at  understanding  and  savouring  it,  and  at 
moulding  the  minds  of  modern  men,  their  tastes  and 
judgment  by  contact  with  the  most  perfect  works 
which  the  human  genius  had  ever  produced.  And 
in  this  form  it  obtained  considerable  success.  Not 
only  did  it  triumph  in  the  universities  from  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  not  only  did  it,  from 
the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  inspire  the 
reform  of  secondary  education  with  its  spirit  ;  but 
it  also  spread  beyond  university  centres,  and  won 
over  the  educated  public.  Winckelmann  opened  out 
fresh  horizons  for  his  contemporaries  on  the  subject 
of  Greek  art  by  showing  that  the  masterpieces  of 
Greek  sculpture  were  not  the  artificial  products  of 
academic  aesthetics,  but  the  natural  and  spontaneous 
fruit  of  the  Hellenic  genius.  Lessing  opposed  the 
dramatic  aesthetics  of  the  French  with  Aristotle  and 
the  true  dramatic  doctrines  of  the  ancients.  Herder 
represented  Greek  civilisation  as  the  age  of  the 
radiant  adolescence  of  humanity,  and  proclaimed 
that  no  nation  was  superior  to  the  Greeks,  among 
whom  for  the  first  time  mankind  was  raised  to 
clear  self -consciousness.  William  of  Humboldt  main- 
tained that  "  no  people  combined  such  great  simpli- 
city and  naturalness  with  so  great  a  culture."  And 
lastly  Frederick  Augustus  Wolff  regarded  the  study 
of  Hellenic  civilisation  as  the  best  introduction  to  the 
23 


&54  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

knowledge  of  man,  and  taught  that  Greece  alone 
among  the  nations  "  afforded  us  the  spectacle  of  a 
people  which  had  developed  organically  till  it  reached 
its  full  bloom."  He  asserted  the  independence  and 
self-sufficiency  of  philology,  which  had  till  then  been 
considered  an  auxiliary  science  to  jurisprudence  and 
theology,  and  raised  it  to  an  end  in  itself  and  almost 
a  religion  for  humanity. 

With  the  great  classicists  of  Germany,  therefore — 
with  Goethe,  Schiller  and  Humboldt — there  came 
into  being  an  idealistic  conception  of  Hellenism  which 
ended  in  a  veritable  religion  of  beauty.  Hellenic 
civilisation  was  in  their  eyes  the  period  of  synthesis 
which  followed  upon  the  wane  of  Asiatic  and  Egyptian 
civilisation.  It  seemed  to  them  that  the  soul  of 
humanity  had  in  a  sense  concentrated  all  its  energies 
in  order  to  create  this  marvellous  bud  which  summed 
up  and  gave  expression  to  the  whole  of  the  Indo- 
European  culture  of  the  past  and  the  future.  In 
fact,  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  Greeks  was  that 
they  were  the  epitome  of  mankind  as  a  whole  and 
realised  as  individuals  that  ideal  of  harmonious 
abundance,  of  "  completeness,"  which  used  to  hover 
before  the  mind  of  Goethe.  They  had  the  unique 
privilege  of  condensing  every  human  energy  into  one 
perfect  whole,  a  marvellously  refined  sensitiveness, 
a  lucid  intellect,  a  magic  imagination  and  a  powerful 
will.  All  these  diverse  gifts  were  in  their  case  har- 
moniously welded  and  authoritatively  combined  in 
each  individual  unit.  The  Greek  soul  was  in  a  sense 
the  primordial  and  superior  prototype  of  the  human 
soul.  It  was  really  divine,  because  humanity  is 
nothing  less  than  the  manifestation  par  excellence  of 
the  divine  in  nature. 

And  this  splendid  efflorescence  of  Hellenic  culture 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  355 

was  a  unique  period  in  the  annals  of  humanity.  To 
the  epoch  of  contraction  which  had  given  it  birth 
there  succeeded  in  fact  a  period  of  expansion.  In 
modern  nations  also  the  ideal  image  of  the  species 
could  be  found.  But  this  image  instead  of  being 
manifested  in  its  completeness  in  every  man  was  now 
only  partially  realised  by  the  individual.  The  beauti- 
ful synthetic  unity  of  ancient  Hellas  had  been  shat- 
tered. Modern  man  developed  his  faculties  one  by 
one,  and  he  never  developed  them  all  ;  he  was,  gener- 
ally speaking,  merely  a  fragment  of  humanity. 
Chained  to  some  strictly  circumscribed  task,  riveted 
to  a  particular  point  in  the  great  social  mechanism, 
he  was  shaped  or  rather  deformed  by  his  duties.  He 
was  no  longer  a  "  man,"  but  simply  a  special  wheel 
in  the  vast  machine.  The  same  applied  to  nations 
as  to  individuals.  Greek  culture  had  been  perpetu- 
ated in  modern  countries,  but  each  nation  displayed 
the  exaggerated  development  of  a  particular  charac- 
teristic of  the  Hellenic  genius.  In  the  Roman  the 
practical  wisdom  and  the  solid  reason  of  the  Greeks 
lived  again  ;  in  the  Italian  their  sparkling  imagination ;  ri 
in  the  Spaniard  that  inclination  towards  exaltation 
which  he  held  in  check  with  so  much  care  ;  in  the 
sentimental  Englishman  that  sweet  melancholy  which 
enveloped  the  whole  of  Greek  life  like  a  light  veil ; 
in  the  Frenchman,  the  sense  of  beautiful  form  ;  in 
the  German,  profundity  of  thought.  Thus  modern 
culture  regarded  as  a  whole  was  certainly  the  blossom 
of  ancient  culture  ;  but  the  Eternal -Human  was 
no  longer  realised  in  its  entirety,  either  by  an  isolated 
people  or  in  an  individual. 

The  task  of  the  future  must  therefore  be  an  effort 
in  the  direction  of  concentration.  The  era  of  dis- 
integration through  which  humanity  was  at  present 


> 


356  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 


^ 


passing  must  be  again  followed  by  a  period  of  syn- 
thesis. And  for  this  the  Greeks  must  be  studied,  not, 
indeed,  with  the  object  of  returning  once  more  to 
Hellenic  culture,  but  in  order  to  "  give  birth  to  a  new 
Greece,"  and  restore  the  complete  image  of  Humanity 
- — of  a  Humanity,  moreover,  which  would  be  richer 
and  more  complex  than  that  which  once  flourished 
in  Greece,  a  Humanity  that  had  assimilated  the  re- 
sults of  two  thousand  years  of  culture.  This  was  the 
ideal  towards  which  a  Faust  or  a  Wilhelm  Mei.ster 
aimed.  And  the  great  representatives  of  classicism 
were  persuaded  that,  of  all  the  nations  of  the  world, 
the  Germans  were  predestined  one  day  to  attain  this 
ideal.  They  possessed  a  suppleness  of  mind  which 
helped  them  to  comprehend  all  foreign  productions, 
an  instinctive  impartiality  which  rendered  them 
capable  of  understanding  and  judging  other  nations 
from  an  absolutely  objective  standpoint,  and  a 
certain  universality  in  their  gifts  and  abilities  which 
explained  why  their  national  genius  did  not  present 
such  accentuated  features  as  that  of  other  countries, 
but  which  permitted  them,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
assimilate  the  fruits  of  the  most  diverse  cultures. 
The  Germans  were,  in  a  word,  "  the  most  human  of 
all  the  nations,"  and  consequently  the  best  fitted 
one  day  to  realise  that  harmonious  synthesis  of  all 
the  elements  of  human  nature  of  which  the  Greeks 
set  the  example,  and  which  was  the  goal  towards  which 
modern  times  were  tending. 

The  high  position  which  art  holds  in  the  conception 
of  life  as  it  was  pictured  by  the  great  German  clas- 
sicists is  evident.  The  end  which  they  assigned  for 
humanity  was  the  imitation  of  the  Greeks,  the 
aesthetic  culture  of  the  ego.  Knowledge,  in  Goethe's 
eyes,  was  not  merely  theoretical  and  rational,  it  was 


Qn<>ZIZ<-i  riw^7|Kc^^ 


^   Q^^jg    fr>vJl^    V 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  357 

also  intuitive — it  was  the  result  not  only  of  abstract 
thought,  but  also  of  the  direct  and  concrete  vision 
of  things.  The  Good,  according  to  Schiller,  was  not 
simply  the  outcome  of  the  absolute  triumph  of 
practical  Reason  over  the  inclinations,  as  Kant  taught ; 
but  "  beautiful  souls  "  could  realise  in  themselves 
the  perfect  concord  between  natural  impulses  and  the 
moral  law.  In  the  eyes  of  both  Goethe  and  Schiller 
moral  superiority  consisted  in  the  harmonious  develop- 
ment of  all  the  energies  which  the  human  microcosm 
contained.  Art  thus  led  to  the  True  and  the  Good. 
And  the  Good  and  the  True  in  their  turn,  when  they 
attained  perfection,  would  blossom  into  Beauty. 

And  this  religion  of  Beauty  exercised  a  profound 
influence  upon  the  thought  of  the  whole  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  It  is  to  be  found  in  the  great  repre- 
sentatives of  philosophical  idealism.  Fichte  saw,  in 
the  mists  of  the  future,  beyond  the  era  of  Science, 
in  which  Reason  and  her  law  are  perceived  with 
perfect  clearness,  a  period  of  art  in  which  humanity, 
by  the  exercise  of  the  perfect  liberty  which  it  will 
realise  at  the  end  of  its  evolution,  will  again  clothe 
truth  and  science  in  beauty.  Schelling  maintained 
that  art,  in  which  the  complete  balance  between  con- 
scious and  unconscious  activity  is  revealed,  is  the 
most  perfect  expression  of  the  ego.  He  admitted  the 
fundamental  identity  of  genius  and  nature  ;  the  ideal 
world  of  art  and  the  real  world  of  objects  are  the 
products  of  one  and  the  same  activity,  which,  in  its 
unconscious  action,  creates  the  real  and  visible  world 
of  things,  and  in  its  unconscious  manifestation  gives 
birth  to  the  aesthetic  world  of  art.  The  world  taken 
as  a  whole,  therefore,  is  a  work  of  art  ;  it  is  '  the 
still  unconscious  poetry  of  the  Spirit."  Art  reveals 
the  identity  of  the  real  and  the  ideal,  it  is  the  key  to 


358  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

the  mystery  of  the  world,  it  shows  how  the  ideal 
becomes  incarnate  and  how  intelligence  is  the  creator 
of  nature.  For  Hegel,  art,  religion  and  philosophy 
were  the  three  degrees  that  could  be  distinguished 
in  the  sphere  of  absolute  Spirit :  Art  was  the  absolute 
Spirit  perceiving  its  own  essence  in  complete  freedom, 
it  was  Spirit  penetrating  matter  and  transforming 
it  into  its  own  image.  With  Schopenhauer  genius 
was  the  marvellous  gift,  imparted  to  a  small  number 
of  the  elect,  of  rising  to  the  disinterested  contempla- 
tion of  things  ;  and  the  work  of  genius,  art,  had  the 
privilege  of  "  reproducing  the  eternal  ideas  which  it 
had  conceived  by  means  of  pure  contemplation — that 
is  to  say,  the  essential  and  the  permanent  among  all 
the  phenomena  of  the  world." 

The  romanticists  in  their  turn  vied  with  each 
other  in  proclaiming  the  sublime  mission  of  art. 
Friedrich  Schlegel  transfigured  in  his  own  way  in  the 
domain  of  art  the  idealism  of  Fichte,  which  showed  us 
the  ego  opposing  to  itself  the  non-ego  in  order  finally 
to  realise  the  identity  of  the  ego  and  the  non-ego. 
He  compared  the  creative  act  of  the  ego,  such  as 
Fichte  described  it,  to  the  act  of  artistic  creation. 
The  poet  and  the  artist  created  a  fictitious  world ;  but, 
at  bottom,  this  world  had  as  much  reality  as  the 
external  and  so-called  real  world.  The  only  difference 
which  existed  between  these  two  worlds  was  that  the 
latter  was  an  unconscious  creation  of  the  ego,  whilst 
the  former  was  the  conscious  creation  of  the  same  ego. 
We  merely  attributed  an  independent  existence  to  the 
non-ego  by  virtue  of  an  illusion  which  would  disappear 
with  the  progress  of  consciousness.  Thus,  in  pro- 
portion as  we  came  to  see  more  clearly  into  ourselves, 
we  should  perceive  more  and  more  distinctly  the 
identity  between  the  world  of  reality   and  that  of 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  359 

poetry,  and  the  fact  that  the  universe  was  the  work 
of  art  of  the  supreme  ego  and  that  the  real  artist 
was  a  creator  of  worlds. 

Novalis,  in  his  theory  of  magic  idealism,  pushed 
to  its  most  extreme  consequences  this  paradoxical 
comparison  between  the  poetic  genius  and  the  creator 
of  the  real  world.  Art  seemed  to  him  the  liberating 
power  by  which  the  ego  would  gradually  raise  itself 
to  omnipotence.  The  artist  of  to-day  created  partial 
illusions  by  making  use  of  such  and  such  an  organ, 
of  which  he  disposed  authoritatively.  Thus  the 
painter,  who  by  means  of  his  palette  called  a  whole 
world  of  dreams  into  being,  in  a  certain  sense  exer- 
cised power  over  the  organ  of  sight ;  similarly  the 
musician  disposed  of  hearing  and  the  poet  of  the 
imagination  and  the  sentiment.  Now  imagine  all 
these  partial  geniuses  synthetised  into  one  unique 
and  supreme  genius,  who  moulded  a  universe  according 
to  his  fancy,  and  created  his  own  particular  world, 
complete  in  all  its  parts,  instead  of  having  to  submit 
to  contact  with  a  strange  reality,  and  the  type  of  the 
magic  idealist  was  obtained.  Art  was  thus  the  first 
stage  in  the  conquest  of  the  world  by  the  ego  at 
which  the  mystic  aimed.  And  the  supreme  victory  of 
idealism,  the  advent  of  the  "  Kingdom  of  Eternity," 
would  also  be  the  apotheosis  of  poetry.  When  the 
Kingdom  of  the  Sun  together  with  the  reign  of  dual- 
istic  illusion  had  been  annihilated,  Fable  would  take 
the  place  of  the  Parcae,  Poetry  would  replace  Fate 
and  weave  the  woof  of  universal  destiny.  Really 
happy  life  did  not  mean,  as  philosophical  idealism 
would  have  it  do,  the  reign  of  absolute  Reason  ;  it 
was  also  the  triumph  of  Beauty,  it  unravelled  itself 
freely,  like  a  harmonious  poem  or  a  divine  dream. 
And  if  all  romanticists  do  not  go  to  such  lengths 


360  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

as  Novalis  in  the  deification  of  art  and  the  glorifica- 
tion of  its  magic  power,  they  were  all  artists  at  heart 
and  inclined  to  identify  art,  philosophy,  and  religion. 
They  regarded  the  mission  of  the  artist  as  that  of  a 
priest,  and  sought  in  poets,  painters,  and  musicians 
the  most  profound  revelations  concerning  the  mystery 
of  the  universe,  looking  up  to  them  as  seers  who 
expressed  by  their  poetical,  musical,  or  plastic  symbols 
truths  of  a  superior  order  to  which  the  intellect  by 
its  own  unaided  efforts  could  not  rise. 

This  cult  of  art  continued  to  exist,  roughly  speak- 
ing, throughout  the  whole  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
It  is  to  be  found  (to  give  two  examples  only)  in  two 
of  the  greatest  artists  of  modern  Germany — in  Hebbel 
and  Richard  Wagner. 

In  agreement  with  the  romanticists,  Hebbel  pro- 
claimed that,  in  order  to  attain  to  a  consciousness 
of  human  destiny  such  as  it  really  is  in  its  tragic 
necessity,  man  can  choose  two  paths,  that  of  the 
intellect  and  that  of  intuition,  the  path  of  science  or 
the  path  of  art.  In  common  with  them  he  was  also 
persuaded  of  the  inferiority  of  the  conscious  intellect 
as  a  means  of  knowledge,  and  deeply  convinced  that 
the  most  complete  image  of  reality  could  only  be 
attained  by  intuition,  by  that  "  inner  illumination  " 
which  sprang  up  in  the  soul  of  the  poet.  Art  was, 
in  his  eyes,  the  continuation  of  the  act  of  creation ; 
it  was  the  expression  at  once  private  and  symbolical 
of  universal  Becoming;  it  was  the  sublime  sob  of 
human  pain,  the  moral  consciousness  of  humanity, 
the  living  proof  of  philosophy,  and  the  highest  form 
of  life. 

And  in  Wagner's  case  also,  art  was  the  liberating 
principle  par  excellence.  The  artist,  in  the  ideal 
images   he   created,    made    man   perceive   by   direct 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  361 

intuition  the  goal  towards  which  he  was  aiming  in 
every  branch  of  his  activity.  Whilst  the  man  of 
science  and  the  philosopher  endeavoured  to  understand 
the  universe  and  to  formulate  by  means  of  the  in- 
tellect and  for  the  sake  of  the  intellect  the  physical 
and  moral  laws  of  the  world,  the  artist  through  his 
symbols  translated  for  the  complete  man  the  purely 
theoretical  and  abstract  conception  of  the  man  of 
thought.  Whilst  the  "  religious  "  man  regarded  the 
conversion  of  the  selfish  will  as  the  final  goal  to 
which  all  the  efforts  of  humanity  should  be  directed, 
the  poet  conjured  up  before  our  eyes  the  consoling 
image  of  our  future  victories  and  the  radiant  spec- 
tacle of  regenerated  humanity.  The  work  of  art, 
Wagner  proclaimed,  was  "the living  representation  of 
religion."  The  fictions  of  artists,  like  the  religious 
allegories  of  priests,  were  symbolical  images  otf  that 
eternal  truth  which  eluded  all  direct  representation. 
Music  especially,  which  Wagner  agreed  with  Schopen- 
hauer in  regarding  as  the  direct  expression  of  the 
will,  was  marvellously  adapted  to  tell  the  tale  of  the 
great  tragedy  of  the  fall  and  the  redemption  of  man 
as  it  really  was  in  its  most  fundamental  reality.  A 
symphony  by  Beethoven  was  a  higher  and  purer 
revelation  of  Christian  faith  than  all  the  dogmas  of 
the  priests.  Modern  religious  faith  was  tired  of  the 
traditional  religious  allegories,  which  were  so  touch- 
ing in  their  simplicity  and  yet  so  imperfect,  and 
which  became  lies  as  soon  as  an  attempt  was  made 
to  impose  them  as  historical  or  metaphysical  dogmas. 
It  was  in  the  great  creations  of  a  Sophocles,  a  . 
Shakespeare  or  a  Beethoven,  and  above  all  in  musjcal  \ 
drama,  that  superior  form  of  symphony,  that  we 
found  the  highest  expression  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment, the  religious  myth  in  its  modern  shape. 


362     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Thus  throughout  the  nineteenth  century  we  find 
under  various  forms  the  fundamental  conviction  of 
the  infinite  value  of  art  and  of  the  superior  mission 
of  the  artist.  Whether  it  regards  a  beautiful  exist- 
ence as  the  final  end  of  human  culture,  whether  it 
identifies  artistic  creation  with  the  creative  act  from 
which  the  world  has  proceeded,  whether  it  attributes 
to  the  poetical  interpretation  of  the  universe  a 
degree  of  "  truth  "  as  great  as,  or  even  greater  than, 
the  scientific  interpretation,  or  whether  it  sees  in 
the  artist  the  successor  of  the  priest  and  the  best 
authorised  interpreter  of  our  religious  faith,  German 
thought  at  all  events  assigns  to  art  an  exceedingly 
high  position.  For  it  honours  in  art  a  power  of  the 
same  rank  as  science,  morality,  or  religion. 

TJ 


The  development  of  the  system  of  enterprise 
levelled  a  serious  blow  at  this  modern  religion  of  art 
and  a  high  level  of  general  culture. 

In  the  first  place,  it  had  the  result  of  putting  the 
problem  of  culture  in  an  absolutely  positive  and 
prosaic  light.  For  the  modern  commercial  mind, 
culture  was  merely  a  commodity  which  was  valued 
very  highly  by  an  ever  larger  section  of  the  public. 
The  production  of  culture  was  accordingly  regarded 
as  an  industry,  and  a  flourishing  industry.  And  in- 
deed with  the  general  growth  in  wealth  there  was  a 
very  large  increase  in  the  number  of  those  who  could 
lay  claim  to  a  finished  education,  and  especially  in 
the  number  of  intellectual  workers  who  were  in  a 
position  to  devote  themselves  exclusively  to  a  pro- 
fession which  was  not  directly  useful  to  material 
existence.     Under  these  circumstances  people  aimed 


16 

X 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  363 

at  producing  culture  "  wholesale."  And  during  the 
nineteenth  century  the  tremendous  extension  was 
witnessed  in  all  enterprises  calculated  to  spread 
culture  in  every  shape  and  form  among  all  ranks  of 
the  nation. 

Firstly,  public  education  was  developed  to  con- 
siderable proportions.  A  few  figures  will  give  a 
rough  idea  of  the  progress  made.  In  1882  Prussia 
had  20,440  primary  schools  with  1,427,045  scholars  ; 
in  1901  she  had  4,413  schools  with  35,733  classes  in 
the  towns,  and  in  the  country  32,332  schools  with 
68,349  classes  and  a  school  population  of  over 
5,680,000  scholars.  Secondary  education  increased 
in  similar  proportions  :  in  1835  Prussia  had  136 
grammar  schools  and  preparatory  schools  ;  in  1905 
she  had  363,  to  which  must  be  added  335  technical 
schools  and  colleges.  Not  less  striking,  in  spite  of 
the  marked  falling  off  in  the  faculty  of  theology, 
which  during  the  course  of  the  century  lost  almost 
half  its  numbers,  is  the  increase  in  the  total  number 
of  students  at  the  universities,  which  from  15,870  in 
1830  and  12,426  in  1850  rose  to  37,677  in  1905.  The 
expenditure  on  public  instruction  and  culture  in 
Prussia  grew  from  about  10  millions  of  marks  in 
1850  to  185  millions  in  1905. 

In  every  respect  the  progress  was  remarkable. 
Not  only  were  the  institutions  and  the  old  type  of 
teaching  developed,  but  during  the  course  of  the 
nineteenth  century  a  whole  host  of  new  creations 
came  into  existence — schools,  superior  technical, 
agricultural  and  commercial  schools,  technical  and 
commercial  colleges,  classes  for  adults  and  professional 
instruction  of  all  kinds,  popular  universities,  free  or 
paid  lectures,  public  libraries,  collections  and  museums 
of  all  sorts.     The  school  population  and  the  teaching 


364  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

staffs  increased  enormously  at  the  same  time  as  the 
professional  capacity  of  these  teachers  was  also  im- 
proved. The  total  amount  of  instruction  dispensed 
to  the  nation  showed  a  prodigious  increase.  Ger- 
many, as  we  have  already  seen,  prides  herself  upon 
marching  at  the  head  of  the  civilised  nations  of  the 
world  with  regard  to  the  organisation  of  education ; 
and  she  applies  herself  with  jealous  care  to  the  task 
of  not  allowing  herself  to  be  out-distanced,  in  this 
sphere,  by  rival  countries. 

Second  in  importance  to  the  schools  are  books. 
Germany,  as  is  well  known,  is  the  greatest  book- 
producer  in  the  world.  At  the  beginning  of  the  cen- 
tury the  number  of  new  works  published  was  not 
more  than  3,900  a  year.  It  rose  in  1900  to  24,792, 
in  1905  to  28,886;  whilst  France,  which  holds  the 
second  place  as  a  book-producer,  only  reached  in 
1904  a  total  of  12,139  works.  If  the  average  number 
of  books  in  an  edition  is  placed  at  1000,  it  has  been 
estimated  that  Germany  prints  every  year  about  one 
book  to  every  two  inhabitants  !  The  book  trade  is 
in  the  most  flourishing  condition  :  it  possessed  in 
1905,  7,152  establishments,  and  exported  abroad 
290  millions  of  marks'  worth  of  goods.  It  seems, 
moreover,  that  the  production  of  books  is  assuming 
a  more  and  more  industrial  character.  The  author — 
even  in  the  case  of  scientific  works — is  tending  to 
become  nothing  more  than  a  kind  of  executive  agent, 
almost  completely  subordinated  to  the  publisher, 
who  commissions  him  to  produce  such  and  such  a 
work.  The  multiplication  of  dictionaries,  encyclo- 
paedias, "  collections  "  and  libraries  of  all  sorts,  and 
of  books  that  come  out  in  parts,  etc.,  clearly  proves 
that  the  majority  of  works  actually  published  have 
their  origin  in  speculation  on  the  part  of  the  pub- 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  365 

lisher  rather  than  in  any  artistic  thought  or  scientific 
idea. 

Germany  is  inundated  with  books,   whilst  news- 
papers and  reviews  swarm  in  even  greater  numbers. 
As    early   as    1825    Goethe    hurled   his    fulminations 
against  journalism,  with  its  "  disintegrating  criticism  " 
and  its  blustering  publicity — which,  it  is  true,  spread 
among  the  masses  a  sort  of  semi-culture,  but  "  was 
for  all  creative  talent  a  fatal  fog,  a  seductive  poison 
which  blighted  the  young  shoots  of  the  imagination, 
stripped  it  of  its  brilliant  foliage,  and  penetrated  into 
the  depths  in  which  the  vital  spunk  and  the  most  deli- 
cate fibres  lay  hid."     Now,  about  that  time  there  were 
845  newspapers  in  Prussia.     In  1869  there  were  2,127. 
In  1891  the  number  of  papers  subjected  to  the  postal 
tax  reached  7,082.     And  the  circulation  of  all  these 
papers    increased    to   most   formidable   proportions. 
During  the  last  twenty  years  the  number  of  news- 
papers   which    have    passed    through    the    post    has 
almost  trebled,  rising  from  500  millions  in  1885  to 
1,500  millions  in  1905.     Complaints  against  the  abuse 
of  journalism  and  against  the  mediocre  quality  of 
the  semi-culture  which  these  papers  pour  forth  in 
floods  among  the  public  have  not  ceased  since  Goethe's 
time.     But  the  evil — if  evil  it  is — has  only  grown 
worse.     And  like  the  book  trade,  the  trade  in  news, 
propagated  either  by  means  of  print  or  pictures,  has 
acquired  a  more  and  more  colossal  circulation. 

Under  these  circumstances  artistic  production  in 
its  turn  tends  more  and  more  to  become  indus- 
trialised. Concerts,  theatrical  representations,  and 
artistic  exhibitions  of  all  kinds  show  a  ceaseless 
increase.  From  1882  to  1895  the  number  of  people 
earning  their  livelihood  as  musicians  or  in  connection 
with  the  theatre  rose  from  46,508  to  65,5Q5,  thus 


ps 


366    EVOLUTION    OF   MODERN    GERMANY 

showing  an  increase  of  41  per  cent.,  whilst  in  the  same 
lapse  of  time  the  population  only  increased  by  14  per 
cent.  We  know  the  loud  anathemas  which  Richard 
Wagner  hurled,  in  the  middle  of  the  century,  against 
the  "  selfish  "  art  which  sprang  from  the  capital- 
istic system,  the  art  which  was  vitiated  and  perverted 
in  its  essence  out  of  covetousness  for  "  golden  guineas  " 
— the  venal  and  artificial  art  destined  not  to  satisfy 
the  instinctive  need  of  beauty,  which  always  lies 
dormant  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  but  the  fictitious 
and  demoralising  need  of  luxury,  or  the  unhealthy 
thirst  for  distractions  and  pleasures  which  tortures 
the  rich.  In  their  romantic  exaggeration  Wagner's 
diatribes  express  an  undeniable  fact,  which  is  that 
under  the  impulse  of  the  spirit  of  capitalistic  enter- 
prise art  tends  less  and  less  to  become  a  disinterested 
and  idealistic  effort  to  attain  beauty,  but  develops 
into  the  methodical  and  organised  exploitation  of  the 
need  of  luxury  and  adornment,  of  distraction  and 
amusement,  not  only  among  the  rich  but  also  among 
the  mass  of  the  people.  There  is  no  doubt  that  great 
theatrical  and  musical  enterprises,  exhibitions  of 
pictures  or  decorative  art  are  above  all  of  the  nature 
of  industrial  enterprises.  Just  as  the  "  man  of 
science  "  sometimes  appears  as  the  mere  paid  crafts- 
man in  some  great  publishing  venture,  so  too  the 
"  artist  "  often  becomes  merely  a  purveyor  to  the 
theatre,  the  review,  or  the  library,  and  works,  not 
in  obedience  to  his  inner  "  genius,"  but  simply  to 
satisfy  some  well-known  and  undeniable  public  taste. 
There  exists  to-day  a  trade  in  the  theatre  and  in 
novels,  in  opera  and  singing,  in  pictures  and  statues ; 
and  every  day  it  becomes  more  difficult  to  decide 
where  industry  ends  and  art  begins,  and  to  fix  the 
limit  which  separates  the  manufactured  article  devoid 


K-IU-COc-©**  'X  /r*- 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  367 


Of  all  aesthetic  value  from  the  superior  work  in  which 
is  embodied  a  disinterested  attempt  at  beauty. 

At  the  same  time  as  the  change,  the  general  char- 
acter of  which  I  have  just  sketched,  took  place  in  the 
domain  of  culture  and  art,  the  position  the  latter 
held  in  the  scale  of  values  was  also  modified. 

From  the  moment  that  the  will  to  power  and  to 
wealth    became    the    dominating    instinct,    and    the 
pursuit  of  the  useful  tended,  in  an  ever  more  marked 
fashion,  to  take  the  first  place  in  public  estimation, 
it  was  also  natural  that  culture  and  art  should  lose 
their   prestige.      Classical  or  romantic  idealism   saw 
in  the  free  play  of  the  spiritual  energies  of  man,  in 
philosophy,  art,  poetry  and  religion  the  highest  form 
of  human  activity,   and  proclaimed  with  Friedrich 
Schlegel  :    "  The  highest  good  and  the  only  thing  in 
the   world  that   matters   is   culture."     The  realistic 
and  positive  spirit  of  the  nineteenth  century  soon 
contradicted  this  verdict.     As  early  as  Goethe  this 
change  of  opinion  was  announced  in  the  Travels  of 
Wilhelm  Meister.     In  distinction  to  the  ideal  of  a 
complete  culture  and  the  harmonious  development  of 
all  the  energies  of  the  ego,  Goethe  insisted  upon  the 
necessity  for  specialisation  which  alone  would  make 
the  individual   a  useful   member   of   society  :     "To 
know  and  do  one  thing  well  secures  a  higher  develop- 
ment than  to  do  a  hundred  fairly  well."     The  first 
duty  of  man  was  to  learn  one  trade  well.    For  mediocre 
spirits  this  trade  would  remain  a  trade  ;    in  the  case 
of  superior  natures  it  would  become  an  art.     And  the 
genius  himself  would  see  in  the  one  thing  he  did  to 
perfection,  the  emblem  of  all  that  was  well  done,  the 
symbol  of  every  really  fruitful  and  useful  activity. 
The  exercise  of  some  activity  that  was  practical  and 
useful  to  society  was  thus  imposed  by  Goethe  as  an 


368     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

obligation  upon  every  man,  even  upon  those  belonging 
to  the  highest  society.  Far  from  being  sacrificed  or 
subordinated  to  general  culture,  the  useful,  on  the 
contrary,  was  the  only  path  which  led  to  the  true 
and  the  beautiful. 

And  this  conviction  grew  stronger  and  stronger  in 
German  society  during  the  second  half  of  the  century. 

The  progress  of  industry  and  commerce,  the  rise  of 
Bismarckian  realism  in  politics,  and  the  development 
of   materialistic  and  positivist  ideas  in  philosophy, 
had  as  their  corollary  a  recrudescence  of  the  utili- 
tarian spirit.     In  the  scholastic  domain  this  tendency 
was  manifested  by  the  creation,  in  addition  to  the 
classical  system  of  education,  of  a  modern  type  of 
instruction  in  which  science  and  modern  languages 
played  a  greater  part,  which  was  more  "  practical  ' 
and  consequently   better   adapted  to    the    needs    of 
the  industrial  and  commercial  middle  classes.     The 
"  culture  "  which  developed  in  modern  Germany  upon 
the  basis  of   the  natural    and    historical   sciences    is 
not,  perhaps,  above  criticism.     We  know  the  anger 
and  contempt  which  Nietzsche  poured  forth  in  his 
Thoughts  out  of  Season  upon  the  civilisation  dear  to 
the  Philistine  of  Culture,  the  Bildungsphilister — that 
"  Socratic  "  civilisation  founded  upon  the  instinct  of 
knowledge  and   ignorant   of   the   necessities   of  life, 
trivially  optimistic,  full  of  mistrust  of  genius,  and  a 
slave  to  routine  as  well  as  intolerant  in  its  medio- 
crity.    One  remembers  the  invectives  of  Zarathustra 
against  the  "  civilised  "  men  of  to-day  who  have  the 
presumption  to  say  "  we  are  entirely  real,  free  from 
all  belief  and  all  superstition,"  and  who  are  in  reality 
"  tattooed  with  the  symbols  of  the  past,"  "  moulded 
out  of  colours  and  out  of  glued  scraps,"  and  present 
to    our    gaze  a  miscellaneous  aggregate  of   features 


THE    VALUE    OF    ART  369 

borrowed  from  all  the  civilisations  in  the  history  of 
the  world  through  which  they  have  been  hurriedly 
led  by  foolhardy  educators. 

But  it  must  be  recognised  that  if  this  prudently 
utilitarian  culture,  so  odious  to  an  aristocratic 
temperament  like  Nietzsche's,  is  perhaps  lacking  in 
prestige  and  grandeur  of  style,  it  is  yet  the  normal 
production  of  the  general  evolution  of  the  German 
mind.  It  may  be  urged  that  it  is  not  very  interesting 
in  itself,  but  none  the  less  did  it  inspire  the  men  who 
won  Sadowa  and  Sedan.  And  the  very  vehemence 
of  Nietzsche's  attacks  shows  that  he  felt  isolated  and 
"  out  of  season  "  in  his  antipathies.  And  I  doubt 
whether,  in  spite  of  his  enormous  success,  he  is  really 
much  less  "  out  of  season  "  to-day.  In  spite  of  his 
passionate  outbursts  against  the  abuse  of  history, 
against  philological  erudition,  against  abstract  science 
and  specialisation,  against  cheap  social  optimism 
and  the  belief  in  the  continual  progress  of  humanity, 
the  average  culture  of  modern  Germany  is  apparently 
still  chiefly  historical,  philological,  scientific,  utili- 
tarian and  optimistic,  suspicious  of  extreme  solutions, 
always  disposed  to  resolve  by  means  of  more  or  less 
happy  compromises  the  great  conflicting  principles 
which  present  themselves  to  our  era,  and  practical 
rather  than  aesthetic  in  its  essential  tendencies. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  impossible  for  art 
to  enjoy  the  unique  position  which  it  held  in  the 
estimation  of  the  country  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  The  progress  of  imperialistic 
rationalism  was  a  menace  to  both  religious  and 
aesthetic  faith.  Contemporary  positivism  does  not 
hesitate,  occasionally,  to  contest  the  value  of  art.  It 
foresees  that,  in  the  life  of  future  generations,  art  and 
poetry  will  perhaps  occupy  but  a  very  small  space. 
24 


370    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

It  points  out  that  the  natural  development  of  man 
is  from  instinct  to  knowledge,  from  spontaneous 
emotion  to  reflective  judgment.  It  proclaims  that 
artistic  intuition  is  a  confused  perception,  inferior  in 
value  to  rational  ideas.  And  it  predicts  that  scientific 
observation  will  continue  to  prevail  more  and  more 
over  the  imagination,  that  the  man  of  culture  will 
consecrate  himself  ever  more  exclusively  to  science, 
and  leave  the  arts  and  poetry  to  the  more  emotional 
fraction  of  humanity,  to  women,  youths  and  children. 
And  contemporary  naturalism  shares  to  a  certain 
extent  the  doubts  felt  by  utilitarian  positivism. 
Nietzsche  subjects  to  the  most  ruthless  criticism  the 
religion  of  art  of  the  classicists  and  the  romanticists. 
Naturally  artists  would  like  to  persuade  us  that 
they  are  the  oracles  of  a  superior  wisdom  which  is 
inaccessible  to  the  vulgar.  They  believe,  as  Zara- 
thustra  says,  "  that  the  dreamer  that  listeneth,  lying 
in  the  grass  or  on  the  slope  of  the  lonely  vale,  getteth 
light  upon  those  things  that  are  between  heaven  and 
earth."  But  this  is  merely  a  pose,  says  Nietzsche. 
A  sincere  psychology  of  the  artist  dissipates  the 
glorious  halo  with  which  he  delights  to  adorn  his 
brow.  It  is  not  true  that  genius  is  a  miraculous 
gift  from  heaven  ;  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  "  long 
patience,"  and  we  know  to-day,  from  Beethoven's 
note-books,  that  his  most  sublime  melodies,  far  from 
being  improvisations,  were  the  result  of  a  long  pro- 
cess of  pruning  and  of  severe  selection.  It  is  not  true 
that  the  work  of  art  possesses  that  character  of 
'  necessity  "  proper  to  living  organisms  :  those  alone 
can  go  into  ecstasies  before  the  "  superior  reality  "  of 
a  poetic  creation  who  see  in  the  real  man  merely  a 
silhouette  and  not  the  unique  incomparable  individual 
that  he  really  is,  every  one  of  whose  manifestations  is 


THE  VALUE   OF   ART  371 

necessary.  The  artist  is  not  a  sincere  man,  a  "  con- 
scientious man  of  the  spirit  "  :  he  does  not  fight  for 
truth,  but  for  those  interpretations  of  life  from  which 
he  can  obtain  the  most  beautiful  results.  He  is  not 
a  seer  who  presents  us  with  the  symbolical  expression 
of  truths  that  he  foresees  by  virtue  of  his  divining 
instinct.  Far  from  being  a  pioneer  of  culture,  he  is 
a  man  behind  the  times,  an  epigone,  a  "  raiser  of  the 
dead,"  who  puts  a  little  colour  into  pale  and  faded 
institutions  and  artificially  revives  obsolete  modes 
of  thought.  Art  blooms  when  religions  are  losing 
ground  and  when  their  dogmas  are  dissipated  and 
overthrown  by  criticism  and  inspire  insuperable 
suspicion.  Then  feeling  which  is  chased  out  of  the 
religious  sphere  by  the  progress  of  enlightenment 
flows  over  and  finds  an  opening  for  itself  in  the 
domain  of  art.  The  artist  becomes  the  successor  of 
the  priest.  It  is  the  artist  who,  when  the  shades  of 
evening  are  falling  about  religion,  revives  and  keeps 
alive  the  sacred  flame  of  enthusiasm,  consoles  hu- 
manity by  giving  it  in  its  turn  a  fictitious  explanation 
of  suffering  and  evil,  and  relieves  it  for  the  moment 
without,  however,  curing  it,  by  means  of  palliatives 
and  narcotics.  But  the  reign  of  art  is  as  ephemeral 
as  that  of  religion.  The  appetite  for  knowledge, 
which  grows  ever  more  imperious,  pushes  man  in- 
exorably towards  the  science  of  nature  and  historical 
research.  Even  now  men  regard  art  simply  as  an 
emotional  remembrance  of  the  joys  of  youth,  as  a 
magnificent  legacy  of  the  past,  as  the  fascinating 
reflection  of  a  sun  already  set,  whose  rays  no  longer 
reach  us  directly,  but  which  still  lights  the  sky  of  our 
life  and  sets  it  aglow,  although  we  can  no  longer  see 
it  ourselves. 

From  yet  another  point  of  view  the  time  in  which 


372     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

we  live  reacts  against  the  romantic  cult  of  art.  We 
have  just  seen  that  it  definitely  repudiates  the  pre- 
tensions of  art  to  set  itself  up  as  a  rival  power  to 
Science  and  to  represent  the  work  of  art  as  an  inter- 
pretation of  reality  endowed  with  a  value  as  great 
as  that  of  a  rational  representation.  Similarly  it 
deprives  art  of  all  pretension  to  rise  above  the  real. 
Art  cannot  "  excel  "  life  or  correct  it ;  on  the  con- 
trary it  is  never  greater  than  when  it  is  at  the  service  of 
life,  and  endows  it  with  beauty  and  makes  it  more 
worthy  of  being  lived. 

From  this  point  of  view,  once  more,  certain  of 
Nietzsche's  ideas  seem  to  me  to  have  a  value  which 
is  not  only  an  individual  but  a  typical  one,  expressing 
some  of  the  deepest  tendencies  of  the  soul  of  modern 
Germany.  We  know  that,  in  his  eyes,  all  higher 
art  had  its  origin  in  Dionysian  intoxication,  in  the 
feeling  of  increased  strength  and  of  superabundance 
of  life  which  impels  man  to  enrich  all  that  surrounds 
him  by  his  own  plenitude,  and  to  transform  all 
things  until  they  become  the  reflection  of  his  will 
to  power.  Man  creates  Beauty  by  instinctively 
projecting  into  things  his  own  perfection,  by  making 
the  superabundance  of  that  vitality  which  he  feels 
bubbling  within  himself  overflow  into  nature.  He 
is  the  cause  and  the  measure  of  all  beauty  and  all 
ugliness.  The  Beautiful  is  the  sovereign  joy  which 
the  triumphant  and  magnificent  will  to  power  feels 
when  it  contemplates  in  itself  and  outside  itself 
the  image  of  its  glorious  perfection.  The  Ugly  is 
degenerate  man,  it  is  the  weakening  of  the  will  to 
power.  Beauty  is  a  tonic  and  a  cordial  ;  ugliness 
lowers  and  depresses.  Thus  in  the  eyes  of  the  true 
artist,  art  becomes  an  auxiliary  to  life.  Before 
trying  to  create  a  work  of  art  properly  so  called, 


THE   VALUE   OF   ART  373 

before  preaching  the  "  art  of  works  of  art  "  he  will 
labour  to  embellish  life,  to  make  man  tolerable  and, 
if  possible,  worthy  of  love  from  man.  He  will  aim 
at  refining  him,  polishing  him,  teaching  him  courtesy, 
elegant  manners  and  tact.  To  ennoble  human  life 
by  endowing  it  with  beauty,  such  is  the  colossal  and 
glorious  task  of  true  art,  of  healthy  art,  which  has 
ita  source  in  exuberant  life,  and  which  tries  to  make 
life  better  worth  living.  The  production  of  works 
of  art  is  only  the  last  efflorescence  which  springs 
from  an  exceptionally  rich  and  fruitful  nature. 
The  superior  genius,  who  feels  within  himself  an 
excess  of  beneficent  energies,  ends  by  unloading 
himself  of  his  superabundance  by  giving  birth  to 
the  work  of  art,  the  apotheosis  of  full-blown  and 
harmonious  life.  It  is  this  rich  and  really  classic 
art  which  radiates  in  the  works  of  Homer  and 
Sophocles,  Theocritus  and  Calderon,  Racine  and 
Goethe — a  really  superior,  healthy  and  beneficent 
art,  in  which  an  exceptional  will  to  power  discharges 
its  superabundance  and  blossoms  into  a  flower  of 
miraculous  beauty  for  the  joy  and  happiness  of  men. 
This  idea  that  art  should  not  barricade  itself  in 
disdainful  isolation,  that  it  should  not  reduce  itself 
to  being  only  a  precious  recreation  for  a  small 
symposium  of  refined  spirits,  that  it  cannot  with 
impunity  detach  itself  from  reality,  but  that  on 
the  contrary  it  should  work  for  the  benefit  of  life, 
has  been  widely  spread  in  Germany  during  the  last 
few  years.  Not  that  "  art  for  the  few  "  is  repudiated, 
or  that  the  boldness  and  refinements  of  modern 
impressionism,  especially  in  the  domain  of  lyrics 
and  music  and  even  in  painting,  are  condemned.  But 
a  fairly  well  defined  reactionary  movement  against 
"  decadent  '     art   and   against   the   exaggeration   of 


374     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

neo-romanticism  can  be  observed.  More  and  more 
numerous  voices  are  making  themselves  heard, 
demanding  a  "  return  to  Goethe."  And  by  this 
a  restoration  of  the  hellenising  sestheticism  of  the 
eighteenth  century  is  certainly  not  meant,  but  rather 
an  attempt  towards  a  new  "  classicism,"  a  healthy 
and  harmonious  art  which  proceeds  from  exuberant 
health,  and  which  sets  itself  the  task  of  making  life 
more  worthy  of  being  lived.  And  this  same  tendency 
is  to  be  found  even  more  clearly  in  the  development 
that  has  taken  place  to-day  in  art  industries,  which 
aim  at  evolving  a  style  for  the  modern  dwelling, 
and  thus  at  trying  to  beautify  the  surroundings  in 
which  everyday  life  is  spent. 

And  at  the  same  time  as  art  places  itself  at  the 
service  of  life  it  seems  also  to  aim  at  becoming  more 
democratic.  Nothing  in  this  respect  is  more  char- 
acteristic than  the  example  of  Wagner.  An  irresist- 
ible need  impelled  him  to  communicate  himself  as 
liberally  as  possible  to  the  outside  world,  to  the 
crowd.  He  aspired  with  all  his  energy  to  a  popular 
art  similar  to  that  which  blossomed  in  Greece  in 
the  drama  of  the  classic  period,  and  in  Germany 
in  the  Volkslied.  He  wanted  art  to  respond  to  a 
need  really  experienced  by  the  nation,  instead  of 
being  a  pastime  at  the  disposal  of  a  few  rich  idlers, 
or  a  recreation  for  the  capitalist,  or  the  man  of 
enterprise  tired  out  by  the  mad  rush  for  wealth. 
He  worked  with  superb  enthusiasm  to  create  a 
"  communist "  drama,  by  organising  a  brotherly 
collaboration  between  the  arts,  the  co-operation  of 
the  poet,  the  performers  and  the  public.  And  this 
feeling  of  human  solidarity  which  moved  Wagner 
to  descend  from  the  empyrean  of  ideal  art  to  the 
people,  as  Lohengrin  descended  to  earth  from  the 


THE   VALUE   OF   ART  375 

serene  heights  of  the  Holy  Grail  to  help  Elsa  in  her 
distress,  was  shared  in  the  nineteenth  century  by  a 
number  of  artists.  Painters  and  poets  vied  with 
each  other  in  drawing  near  to  the  masses,  in  tracing 
in  detail  the  destinies  of  workers  in  towns  and 
dwellers  in  the  country,  in  describing  with  scrupulous 
fidelity  popular  life  in  all  its  diverse  provincial 
and  local  aspects  ;  in  short,  at  making  known,  in  a 
shape  directly  accessible  to  all,  the  life  of  the  German 
people  of  their  day.  Architects  and  decorators, 
on  their  side,  resolutely  attacked  the  difficult  task 
of  providing  healthy  and  comfortable  homes  for  the 
people,  and  thus  putting  a  little  beauty  into  the 
daily  life  of  the  poor.  There  is  certainly  some 
romantic  illusion  in  most  of  these  attempts.  The 
immense  majority  of  the  works  produced  were 
"  popular  "  only  in  appearance,  and  really  appealed 
only  to  a  more  or  less  limited  minority.  And  if  one 
considers  the  gulf  that  exists  to-day  between  the 
culture  of  the  masses  and  the  culture  of  the  refined, 
one  may  well  ask  to  what  point  the  advent  of  an 
authentically  popular  art,  capable  at  once  of  pleasing 
the  masses  and  of  satisfying  the  exigencies  of  an 
educated  taste,  is  possible  at  the  present  time.  But 
it  must  at  least  be  acknowledged  that  the  desire  to 
find  the  formula  for  this  art  does  exist,  in  a  very 
sincere  and  very  active  form,  in  the  breasts  of  many 
German  artists. 

It  must  also  be  noted  that  this  impulse  on  the 
part  of  the  artists  towards  the  people  was  answered 
by  a  powerful  effort  on  the  side  of  the  people  to 
attain  culture  and  art.  The  Socialist  movement 
resulted  in  awakening  scientific  curiosity  and  a 
taste  for  the  beautiful  in  the  hearts  of  the  masses. 
And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Socialism  expects 


376    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

from  the  society  of  the  future  only  the  free  access 
of  all  to  the  domains  of  the  True  and  the  Beautiful, 
that  magnificent  intellectual  and  artistic  efflorescence 
which  is  the  final  goal  in  which  social  evolution 
should  find  its  consummation.  It  believes  that 
social  revolution  alone  can  give  the  people  free 
access  to  high  culture.  But  in  the  meantime  it 
aims  in  the  domain  of  education  as  well  as  in  that 
of  economics  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the 
masses  at  once.  Just  as  it  endeavours,  even  within 
the  confines  of  middle-class  life,  to  make  the  con- 
ditions of  life  pleasanter  for  the  worker,  it  also  tries 
to  raise  the  intellectual  level  of  the  labourer.  And 
to  a  large  extent  it  succeeds. 

Certainly  the  effort  of  the  Socialists  to  attain 
culture  is  not  altogether  disinterested.  They  realise 
that  science  is  a  formidable  instrument  of  power, 
and  that,  in  the  words  of  Bacon,  '  knowledge  is 
power."  And  they  also  reckon  that,  in  order  to 
attain  power,  workers  should  not  only  have  regard 
for  the  maintenance  of  their  physical  strength,  but 
also  make  their  brains  ever  more  capable  of  re- 
flection and  reasoning,  and  stock  them  with  as  large 
an  amount  as  possible  of  solid  and  well-classified 
knowledge.  But  they  do  not  confine  themselves  to 
seeing  in  culture  an  efficient  weapon  of  war  ;  they 
have  also  gradually  come  to  esteem  it  for  its  own 
sake.  A  sincere  and  disinterested  scientific  curiosity 
is  developing  among  the  working  classes.  The  most 
intelligent  Socialists  are  not  merely  interested  in  the 
economic  doctrines  of  their  party,  but  also  realise 
that  Marxism  rests  upon  a  general  conception  of 
life,  and  consequently  look  out  for  opportunities 
for  becoming  acquainted  with  the  general  results 
of  the  natural  and  historical  sciences.     Hence  the 


THE   VALUE   OF  ART  377 

success  of  enterprises  which  aim  at  diffusing  culture 
among  workmen — debating  and  reading  clubs, 
lending  libraries,  scientific  and  literary  lectures, 
associations  for  study  like  the  Workmen's  School 
at  Berlin.  And  just  as  the  worker  desires  instruction, 
he  also  claims  the  right  to  artistic  culture,  he  wants 
"  art  to  belong  to  the  people."  He  hurries  enthu- 
siastically to  see  plays  performed  at  popular  theatres 
which  put  within  reach  of  the  working  classes  the 
masterpieces  of  social  drama,  the  plays  of  Ibsen 
and  Hauptmann,  Tolstoi  and  Gorki,  and  of  the 
"  realistic "  school  of  modern  German  writers.  He 
reads  with  interest  some  of  the  German  classics, 
especially  Heine,  who  is  held  up  by  Socialist  writers 
as  one  of  the  champions  of  German  democracy. 
The  fine  arts  also  begin  to  have  a  fascination  for 
him,  and  it  is  an  ascertained  fact  that  numbers  of 
working  men  buy  the  excellent  cheap  reproductions 
of  the  masterpieces  of  painting  which  certain  art 
publishers  put  on  the  market  nowadays. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  democratic  move- 
ment, it  seems,  need  not  necessarily  be  regarded  as 
a  menace  to  art.  Since  the  time  of  Heine  and 
Nietzsche,  Socialists  have  frequently  been  represented 
as  "  barbarians  at  heart,"  and  as  destroyers  of  all 
superior  civilisation.  This  is,  apparently,  an  in- 
justice and  an  error.  There  is  probably  to-day  as 
much  scientific  and  artistic  idealism  among  the 
masses  as  among  the  middle  classes  in  Germany. 
On  the  other  hand  it  must  be  confessed  that  for 
the  time  being  the  alliance  dreamt  of  between  the 
masses  and  modern  art  scarcely  exists  except  in 
the  shape  of  more  or  less  confused  aspirations  and 
desires.  With  what  luck  will  the  movement  that  is 
being  inaugurated  to-day  meet  ?     Shall  we  one  day 


378  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

see  rise  up,  face  to  face  with  our  arts  of  luxury,  a 
national  art  in  the  real  interpretation  of  the  word, 
veritably  upheld  by  the  intelligence  and  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  masses  ?  There  is  nothing  to  prevent 
our  desiring  and  hoping  for  it ;  but  I  do  not  see  how 
the  historian  can  make  any  sort  of  positive  statement 
in  this  connection.     The  future  alone  can  decide. 


CHAPTER    II 

ROMANTICISM,    REALISM    AND    IMPRESSIONISM 

I 

After  having  indicated  the  general  aims  which 
art  in  Germany  is  following,  I  should  now  like  to 
give  a  summary  of  the  fundamental  tendencies 
which  are  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  German  art 
during  the  nineteenth  century. 

To  proceed  in  accordance  with  historical  sequence, 
it  is  "  romanticism  "  with  which  we  first  meet  at 
the  dawn  of  the  century,  and  which  I  shall  begin 
by  describing.  It  must  be  clearly  understood  that 
in  this  category  are  included  not  only  the  groups  of 
writers  and  thinkers  which  historians  of  literature 
as  a  rule  designate  by  the  name  of  first  and  second 
romantic  group,  but,  more  generally  speaking,  the 
whole  aggregate  of  writers  and  artists  in  whom  a 
certain  "  romantic "  turn  of  mind  predominates, 
the  chief  tendencies  of  which  I  will  try  to  define. 

When  the  romantic  movement  came  into  existence 
in  the  last  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  did  not 
rise  up  in  rebellion  against  classicism,  as  French 
romanticism  afterwards  did.  The  adversaries  whom 
it  riddled  with  its  sarcasms  were  the  majority  of  self- 
satisfied  and  overweening  mediocrities,  the  last 
champions  of  the  era  of  enlightenment  which  was 
tottering  to  its  fall.  Now  the  philosophic  and  literary 
classicism  of  Germany  had  itself  just  issued  from  a 
movement  of  reaction  against  degenerate  rationalism 

379 


380  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

with  its  withering  intellectualism  and  its  dull  utili- 
tarianism. The  romanticists,  in  the  beginning,  had 
no  other  ambition  than  to  carry  on  the  classical 
tradition.  When  they  made  mock  of  Nicolai  and 
his  laboratory  for  concocting  anti-philosophical 
elixirs,  when  they  hurled  polemics  against  the 
"  harmonious  platitudes  "  of  self-satisfied  Philistines 
and  against  the  puling  utilitarianism  of  the  "  moral 
economists  "  who  reduced  life  to  a  calculation  of 
interests  and  saw  nothing  beyond  an  exceedingly 
virtuous,  regular,  and  narrow  middle-class  existence  ; 
when  they  made  fun  of  the  literary  mediocrities  of 
the  day,  men  like  Lafontaine  and  Clauren,  Iffland  and 
Kotzebue,  Voss  and  Schmidt  von  Werneuchen,  they 
felt  they  were  conducting  the  campaign  of  making 
healthy  the  German  Parnassus  inaugurated  by  the 
Xenien  of  Goethe  and  Schiller.  For  a  long  time  the  ro- 
manticists and  the  classicists  were  in  alliance  and  held 
each  other  in  mutual  esteem.  The  romanticists  loudly 
proclaimed  themselves  the  followers  of  Kant  in  their 
philosophy  and  of  Goethe  in  literature.  Only  gradually 
did  they  come  to  distinguish  clearly  the  differences 
which  separated  them  from  their  models  and  to  take 
up  their  stand  against  the  classicism  whose  standpoint 
they  had  outgrown  in  the  course  of  their  evolution. 

The  romanticists,  therefore,  were  in  the  beginning 
innovators  in  open  revolt  against  senile  intellectu- 
alism, over-cautious  wisdom,  and  the  dull  common- 
sense  of  a  worn-out  rationalism,  which,  unconscious 
of  its  own  nullity,  flaunted  untenable  pretensions  to 
infallibility.  It  is  quite  wrong  to  represent  romanti- 
cism as  a  movement  of  religious  and  political  reaction. 
Its  disciples  were  not  the  least  bit  in  the  world 
cowards  whom  the  excesses  of  a  reason  that  had 
become  too  audacious  terrified,  and  who  wished  to 


ROMANTICISM  381 

go  back  and  find  refuge  in  the  faith  of  the  past  and 
in  historic  tradition.  They  were,  on  the  contrary, 
spirits  who  were  courageous  to  the  point  of  rashness, 
freed  from  prejudice  to  the  point  of  nihilism,  and 
impregnated  by  the  highest  culture  of  their  day. 
They  were  intrepid  explorers  who  aimed  at  pene- 
trating into  regions  of  the  human  soul  to  which  their 
mediocre  predecessors  had  no  access.  They  never 
denied  the  triumphs  of  rational  science,  but  they 
avowed  that  theoretical  reason  was  not  the  only  instru- 
ment by  means  of  which  man  could  grasp  reality. 

In  the  domain  of  science  they  opposed  prudent 
empiricism  and  the  analytical  method  by  intuition 
and  idealistic  speculation.  They  aspired  to  know 
the  Cosmos  in  all  its  prodigious  unity,  and  constructed 
a  philosophy  of  nature  which  was  independent  of 
experience  and  which  saw  unconscious  spirit  every- 
where in  nature,  conceived  of  natural  forces  as  the 
organs  of  hidden  wills,  and  aimed  at  showing  in 
everything  the  mysterious  mingling  of  the  conscious 
and  the  unconscious.  In  the  religious  sphere  we 
have  already  seen  how  they  denied  the  competence  of 
reason  and  founded  religion  upon  the  direct  con- 
templation of  the  universe,  and  upon  the  emotion 
which  fills  the  soul  in  the  presence  of  the  infinite.  In 
the  domain  of  politics  they  agreed  with  Fichte  in 
opposing  the  cosmopolitanism  of  the  eighteenth 
century  by  patriotic  enthusiasm.  For  the  individual- 
istic conception  which  made  the  State  merely  an 
'  undertaking  for  public  security "  which  safe- 
guarded the  citizens  against  foreign  invasions  or 
attacks  on  the  part  of  their  fellow  citizens,  they 
substituted  a  social  conception  according  to  which 
man  as  an  individual  could  not  attain  liberty,  but 
could  only  realise  it  in  society  through  the  medium 


382  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

of  the  State.  With  the  example  of  revolutionary 
France  before  their  eyes  they  were  full  of  scepticism 
with  regard  to  the  organising  powers  of  reason,  and 
insisted  upon  the  importance  and  the  rights  of  history 
and  tradition.  They  professed  the  greatest  respect 
for  all  institutions  which  had  developed  gradually  in 
the  course  of  centuries,  and  appeared  as  the  normal 
fruit  of  historical  evolution,  like  the  English  con- 
stitution in  distinction  to  that  of  the  republic  of 
Berne.  Such  institutions,  if  we  are  to  believe  the 
romanticists,  had  by  their  very  antiquity  an  in- 
trinsic value,  and  were  infinitely  superior  to  those 
which  sprang  from  the  brain  of  a  legislator  or  the 
debates  of  a  constituent  assembly.  They  reinstated 
the  Middle  Ages,  which  had  been  decried  by  the 
rationalists  as  an  era  of  obscurantism  and  barbarism. 
They  extolled  its  institutions,  its  civilisation,  its 
literature,  and  its  arts.  Like  Hugo  and  Savigny, 
they  represented  right  not  as  the  result  of  a  conscious 
act  of  will,  a  social  contract,  but  as  an  unconscious 
and  necessary  action  on  the  ipavt  of  the  national  soul, 
of  the  Volksgeist,  which  lives  and  breathes  in  all  the 
individuals  who  form  part  of  the  same  community. 

In  the  sphere  of  art  also,  they  combated  the 
rationalistic  conception  according  to  which  the  work 
of  art  was  the  product  of  the  reasoned  and  conscious 
industry  of  man.  They  did  not  consider  the  intellect 
or  technical  knowledge  as  by  any  means  the  essential 
elements  of  genius,  but  rather  creative  imagination  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  gift  of  emotion  on  the  other. 

In  the  first  place  the  romanticists  had  the  highest 
opinion  of  the  creative  faculties  of  the  artists.  Their 
aesthetic  was  based,  as  we  have  already  seen,  upon 
the  idealism  of  Fichte.  It  identified  the  artist  with 
Fichte's  ego,  which  found  its  position  by  standing 


ROMANTICISM  383 

in  opposition  to  the  non-ego  and  finally  recognised 
the  identity  between  the  ego  and  the  non-ego.  It 
thus  made  the  poet  a  kind  of  creator  whose  conscious 
fictions  were  scarcely  less  "  real  "  than  the  uncon- 
scious fictions  of  the  ego,  that  is  to  say,  of  the  external 
world,  the  non-ego,  to  which  we  attribute  an  inde- 
pendent existence  only  by  virtue  of  an  illusion  which 
is  destined  to  disappear  with  the  progress  of  con- 
sciousness. In  the  eyes  of  Friedrich  Schlegel,  there- 
fore, the  most  profound  theorist  of  romanticism,  the 
artist  was  supreme.  "  Romantic  poetry,"  he  pro- 
claimed, "  is  infinite  ;  it  recognises  as  its  supreme 
law  that  the  arbitrary  fancy  of  the  poet  should 
submit  to  no  law  above  it."  The  artist  was  as  free 
in  the  face  of  the  universe  as  the  independent  and 
autonomous  ego,  and  should  become  conscious  of 
his  liberty  with  regard  to  the  non-ego. 

From  this  sovereign  independence  of  the  artist 
there  also  arose  the  famous  law  of  romantic  irony. 
Fichte's  "  absolute  ego,"  the  primordial  and  original 
ego,  the  point  of  departure  for  all  society  and  all 
speculation,  was  not,  but  eternally  became.  There 
was  and  always  would  be  an  everlasting  antagonism 
between  the  "  absolute  ego,"  which  only  existed  as 
an  ideal  that  was  never  realised,  and  the  "  empirical 
ego,"  which  was  always  realised,  but  also  constantly 
appeared  in  an  individual,  limited,  and,  as  such,  im- 
perfect form.  The  romantic  artist,  therefore,  accord- 
ing to  Schlegel,  ought  to  realise  the  necessary  dis- 
crepancy which  existed  between  his  "  absolute  ego  " — 
that  is  to  say,  his  creative  imagination — and  his 
particular  manifestations.  In  other  words  he  ought 
to  feel  himself  superior  to  all  the  works  of  art  he 
produced.  And  this  contrast  would  find  expression  in 
irony,  that  supreme  irony  which   Schlegel  admired 


384  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

so  much  in  Goethe's  Wilhelm  Meister,  and  which  in 
his  opinion  no  really  superior  work  should  be  with- 
out. TJie  romantic  poet  should  not  deceive  himself, 
and  should  prove  that  he  did  not.  He  should  aim  with 
whole-hearted  sincerity  to  communicate  himself  as 
much  as  possible  and  to  put  himself  entirely  into 
his  work.  But  he  should  also  know  that  no  partial 
creation  can  ever  be  an  adequate  expression  of  the 
ego.  He  must  therefore  remain  sufficiently  free  in 
spirit  to  "  raise  himself  above  his  highest  creations  ' 
and  prove,  by  means  of  irony,  that  he  did  not  take 
them  altogether  seriously  himself. 

Lastly,  romantic  poetry  as  well  as  being  "  ironical ' 
should  also  become  a  "  poetry  of  poetry."  In 
Fichte's  eyes  the  transcendental  philosopher  did 
not  restrict  himself  to  taking  cognisance  of  himself 
and  to  attempting  to  give  an  explanation  of  the 
system  of  his  representations.  He  also  reflected  upon 
the  attempt  itself — in  other  words,  he  philosophised 
about  philosophy.  At  the  same  time  as  he  produced 
a  work  of  art  he  should  describe  himself  in  his 
capacity  as  poet.  He  should  exercise  his  poetic 
activity,  and  also  reflect  upon  that  activity  at  the 
very  moment  when  he  was  exercising  it.  This  is 
what  Schlegel  called  making  poetry  raised  to  the 
second  power,  or  the  "  poetry  of  poetry." 

Thus  romanticism  resulted  in  an  absolute  sub- 
jectivism with  respect  to  art.  It  proclaimed  in 
theory  the  sovereignty  of  creative  fancy,  its  inde- 
pendence with  regard  to  all  conventional  rules,  and 
even  with  regard  to  external  reality,  and  its  right 
to  destroy  by  irony  the  fictions  it  creates.  In 
practice  it  gave  birth  to  strange  and  sometimes  dis- 
concerting works,  in  which  the  subjectivity  of  the 
artist  spread  itself  out  and  overflowed  in  all  direc- 


?.. 


ROMANTICISM  385 

tions,  whether  he  conjured  up  before  men's  imagina- 
tions a  more  or  less  fantastic  dream-world,  whether 
he  amused  himself  with  his  own  creations  and 
suppressed  illusion  by  means  of  irony,  or  whether 
he  obtruded  his  own  personality  into  his  fictions  and 
wove  confessions,  philosophical  reflections  and  aesthetic 
dissertations  into  his  tale.  Works  like  Schlegel's 
Lucinde,  Novalis's  Ofterdingen,  Wackenrode's  Out- 
pourings of  an  Art-loving  Monk,  and  Tieck's  Genevieve 
may  be  cited  as  typical  productions  in  this  respect. 

Another  essential  characteristic  of  romanticism 
was,  that  full  of  contempt  as  it  was  for  intellectualism, 
it  attached  the  highest  importance  to  pure  emotion 
and  thus  tended  towards  music  and  lyricism. 

The  deep  feeling  for  nature  and  its  diverse  aspects, 
the  cult  of  friendship  and  love  were  more  and  more 
strongly  developed  during  the  second  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  life  of  the  soul  grew  ever 
richer  and  more  complex,  and  men  learnt  to  feel  ■ 
its  various  shades  more  and  more.  This  faculty  was 
manifested  by  a  rapid  and  colossal  development  of 
the  musical  instinct.  The  beginning  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  appears  in  this  respect  as  a  period  of 
marvellous  fruitfulness.  It  witnessed  the  advent  of 
Beethoven  and  the  resurrection  of  Bach,  whose 
immense  value  began  to  be  understood  after  a  long 
period  of  eclipse.  It  brought  the  growth  of  the  song 
in  the  person  of  Schubert,  and  the  efflorescence  of 
romantic  opera  with  Weber.  With  Beethoven  especi- 
ally  music  became  conscious  of  the  extent  of  its 
domain  and  the  greatness  of  its  task.  It  felt  that  it 
was  able  to  express  in  a  different  form,  but  quite  as 
well  as  poetry,  the  most  profound  aspirations  and  the 
highest  emotions  of  the  human  soul. 

Now   the   romanticists   foresaw   the    fresh    popu- 
25 


Q^rS- 


^> 


386  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 


larity  which  music  was  destined  to  enjoy.  They 
felt  that  in  order  to  describe  the  psychic  emotions 
of  the  new  era  which  was  being  inaugurated,  in 
order  to  express  all  the  world  of  more  or  less  vague 
and  hovering  impressions  which  can  be  divined 
above  the  level  of  clear  thought,  and  which  has  such  a 
strong  fascination  for  the  modern  mind,  tired  out  by 
the  excess  of  rationalistic  common  sense^  there  was 
perhaps  no  more  suitable  vehicle  than  music.  And 
from  that  moment  there  developed  in  them  a  growing 
cult  of  music,  an  ever  more  marked  tendency  to 
pure  lyricism.  Music  was  in  their  eyes  "  the  most 
romantic  of  the  arts  " — that  which  best  taught  us 
to  "  feel  emotions."  They  loved  to  give  descriptions 
of  types  of  musicians.  Thus  Wackenrode  intro- 
duces us  to  his  Joseph  Berlinger  and  Hoffmann  to 
his  celebrated  Johann  Kreisler.  Some  romanticists, 
like  Hoffmann,  were  both  musicians  and  poets. 
Others  like  Tieck  insistently  proclaimed  the  supremacy 
of  music  over  the  other  arts,  declared  that  a  symphony 
was  superior  to  the  richest  drama,  tried  to  vie  with 
music  by  means  of  poetry  and  words,  amused  them- 
selves by  writing  poetic  "  symphonies,"  and  sought 
to  produce  in  their  lyrical  verses  purely  musical  effects 
by  the  accumulation  of  certain  rhymes  and  the 
repetition  of  certain  sonorous  sounds.  Many,  without 
going  to  the  lengths  of  this  somewhat  superficial 
and  fictitious  imitation  of  musical  processes,  were 
profoundly  lyrical  natures,  whose  chief  preoccu- 
pation was  to  express  states  of  the  soul  and  pure 
emotions,  to  discharge,  in  floods  of  lyrics,  that  Sehn- 
sucht,  that  indefinite  longing,  at  once  sweet  and  pain- 
ful, made  up  of  regrets,  expectation,  vague  aspira- 
tions, despair  and  enthusiasm,  which  vibrates  in 
romantic  hearts.     And  it  is  in  this  lyricism  which  is 


ROMANTICISM  387 

entirely  impregnated  by  music  that  Romanticism,  from 
Novalis's  Hymns  to  the  Night,  to  Heine's  Intermezzo 
and  Nietzsche's  Zarathustr a,  found  its  happiest  inspira- 
tions and  produced  its  most  perfect  masterpieces. 

There  remains  for  us  to  draw  attention  to  one  last 
characteristic  necessary  for  the  understanding  of 
German  romanticism  ;  and  that  is  the  evolution  by 
means  of  which,  after  starting  out  from  the  Hellenism 
of  the  classicists,  it  resulted  gradually  in  the  concep- 
tion of  an  autochthonous  national  and  popular  art. 

The  romanticists,  as  we  have  already  pointed  out, 
posed  at  first  as  the  heirs  of  classicism  and  as  the 
disciples  of  Goethe  and  Kant.  Schlegel  began  by  a 
brilliant  apology  for  Hellenism.  Its  historical  evolu- 
tion seemed  to  him  the  logical  development  of  the 
Beautiful,  which,  taking  its  rise  in  the  naturalism  of  the 
Ionic  School,  rose  in  Attic  art  to  sublimity  and  per- 
fection, only  to  founder  in  the  end  in  the  anarchy  and 
barbarism  of  the  Alexandrians.  Thus  the  Greeks 
were  the  fairest  example  of  humanity  that  had  ever 
existed  in  the  world,  and  their  history  showed  us  not 
only  the  destinies  of  a  privileged  people,  but  the  most 
admirable  type  which  men  of  all  ages  could  realise 
in  accordance  with  their  various  degrees  of  develop- 
ment. Greek  poetry  produced  in  every  department 
and  at  every  stage  of  its  history  the  most  perfect  works 
to  which  the  human  genius  had  ever  given  birth. 
Taken  in  its  entirety  it  was,  according  to  Schlegel, 
"  the  ideal  and  the  canon  of  poetry  itself  in  its  natural 
evolution."  Thus  budding  romanticism  began  by 
pushing  to  its  extreme  the  Hellenic  "legend"  as  it  was 
elaborated  by  classicism.  I  doubt  whether  any  German 
poet  ever  experienced  such  an  intense  longing  for 
the  beauty  of  antiquity  as  the  unfortunate  Holderlin, 
who  is  often  classed  in  the  earliest  Romantic  School. 


388  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

But  romanticism  did  not  remain  long  in  this  first 
phase.  Schlegel,  after  having  at  the  outset  sacrificed 
the  "  characteristic  "  and  "  individual  '  poetry  of 
the  modern  to  the  "  objective  "  poetry  of  the  Greeks, 
was  not  slow  to  confess  that  modern  art  was  not 
inferior  to  Greek  art,  that  at  bottom  they  were  both 
of  equal  value,  and  that  the  duty  of  the  critic  was  to 
realise  "  the  absolute  identity  between  ancient  and 
modern  art."  And  thus  hejclaimed  for  "  romantic  " 
art  the  same  degree  of  grandeur  as  for  "  classical  " 
art.  Born  in  Germany,  where  in  the  bosom  of  a 
young  and  pure  race  there  existed  a  fine  store  of 
heroic  legends,  romantic  poetry  was  developed  by 
contact  with  the  old  Latin  culture  or  the  civilisation 
of  the  East,  in  Italy  through  Dante,  in  Spain  through 
Cervantes,  and  in  England  through  Shakespeare. 
And  after  a  period  of  eclipse  which  was  manifested 
by  the  classical  epoch  in  France  and  England  which 
Schlegel  regarded  as  "  a  system  of  false  poetry,"  it 
reached  its  culminating  point  in  Germany.  There 
the  torch  of  Greek  culture  was  once  again  rekindled. 
It  was  Winckelmann  who  revealed  to  his  contempo- 
raries the  splendours  of  Greek  art,  and  Goethe  who, 
as  a  new  Dante,  appeared  as  the  restorer  of  poetry, 
and  brought  about  the  reconciliation  of  the  ancient 
and  the  modern.  And  lastly  it  was  the  romanticists 
who  realised  the  unity  between  poetry,  philosophy 
and  religion,  and  who,  by  raising  the  translation  of 
foreign  poets  and  the  imitation  of  their  metres  to  a 
fine  art,  made  a  science  of  criticism  and  paved  the  way 
for  a  regular  "  history  of  poetry."  Wilhelm  Schlegel, 
in  his  celebrated  Berlin  lectures,  which  are  recognised 
as  the  most  authoritative  exposition  of  the  doctrines 
of  German  romanticism,  does  scarcely  more  than 
develop  that  species  of  the  "  Legend  of  the  Ages  ' 


'ioU-    ^X^v^    QxrrJL. 


ROMANTICISM  389 

of  poetry  which  had  been  sketched  out  by  his 
brother. 

IJrom  being  classical  romanticism  became  cosmo- 
politan. It  consciously  set  itself  the  task  of  initiating 
Germany  into  the  literatures  of  other  lands.  It 
vaunted  as  one  of  the  typical  virtues  of  the  Germans 
that  gift  for  assimilation  which  allowed  them  to  par- 
take freely  of  exotic  masterpieces  and  proclaimed  that 
it  was  precisely  this  quality  which  was  destined  to 
raise  them  to  the  highest  rank  among  the  nations  of 
Europe.  "  We  aim  at  nothing  less,"  wrote  Wilhelm 
Schlegel,  "than  at  uniting  in  ourselves  the  various 
merits  of  the  most  diverse  nations,  at  assimilating 
them  by  means  of  intelligence  and  sensitiveness,  and 
thus  constituting  ourselves  a  cosmopolitan  centre  for 
the  mind  of  man."  Numerous  translations — of  which 
the  most  celebrated,  that  of  Shakespeare  by  A.  W. 
Schlegel,  was  a  masterpiece  of  its  kind — adaptations 
and  imitations  of  all  kinds  from  that  moment  familiar- 
ised the  German  public  with  the  literatures  of  the 
"  united  Europe,"  of  the  Middle  Ages,  of  Italy  and 
Spain,  ancient  France,  and  England  in  the  time  of 
Shakespeare,  and  even  with  the  poetry  and  civilisa- 
tion of  the  East,  which  Friedrich  Schlegel,  in  his 
famous  book  On  the  Language  and  Wisdom  of  the 
Indians  (1808),  presented  to  the  reading  public  as 
a  document  of  the  first  importance  for  the  study  of 
human  thought.  Without  fear  of  losing  her  own 
originality,  romanticist  Germany  endeavoured  to 
assimilate  the  treasures  of  universal  art  and  to  enlarge 
the  field  of  German  thought  to  such  an  extent  as 
to  make  her,  in  a  way,  the  spiritual  and  artistic 
conscience  of  civilised  Europe. 

And,  at  the  same  time  as  it  explored  exotic  litera- 
tures in  this  way,  romanticism,  by  reviving  and  con- 


390     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

tinuing  the  tradition  of  Herder  and  young  Goethe, 
became  devotedly  absorbed,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
the  study  of  the  past  history  of  Germany.  And  this 
was  perfectly  natural.  The  hatred  of  the  roman- 
ticists for  intellectualism,  their  religious  and  mystic 
aspirations,  their  suspicion  of  the  organising  power 
of  reason  in  the  sphere  of  politics,  their  aversion  for 
"  artificial  "  art,  their  worship  of  Nature,  necessarily 
led  them  to  reinstate  the  Middle  Ages,  which  had  been 
decried  by  rationalism  as  the  era  of  obscurantism 
and  barbarism.  They  were  enamoured  of  theJMiddle 
Ages  because  they  saw  in  them  an  epoch  in  which  a 
glowing  and  simple  faith  was  supreme,  in  which  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire  shone  with  incomparable  lustre 
under  the  Ottos  and  the  Hohenstaufen,  in  which 
poetry  found  a  magnificent  expansion  on  the  lips  of 
popular  jugglers,  or  of  the  noble  Minnesinger,  and  in 
which  the  arts,  in  the  persons  of  Albert  Durer  and 
Peter  Vischer,  shed  a  marvellous  brilliance.  In 
1793  Tieck  and  Wackenroder  discovered  in  the  course 
of  a  summer's  journey,  the  picturesque  and  uncon- 
ventional beauty  of  the  old  city  of  Nuremburg.  And 
from  that  moment  they  fell  in  love  with  ancient  Ger- 
man art.  And  this  enthusiasm,  which  spread  from  man 
to  man,  was  shared  by  almost  all  the  romanticists. 

Poets,  writers,  philologists,  painters  and  artists,  all 
went  for  inspiration  to  the  Middle  Ages.  They 
published  or  adapted  old  poems,  which  till  then  had 
been  buried  in  dusty  libraries.  Tieck  reinstated  the 
Minnesinger  in  a  place  of  honour ;  and  Schlegel 
recalled  the  attention  of  the  public  to  the  Nibelungen- 
lied.  People  studied  the  old  traditions,  they  made 
collections  of  folk  tales — the  Volksbucher  and  the 
Volkslieder.  They  raved  about  anonymous  and  im- 
personal popular  poetry  and  all  works  which  seemed 


ROMANTICISM  391 

to  proceed  from  a  collective  impulse.  They  placed 
the  creations  of  the  poetical  instinct  that  lived  in  the 
masses  above  the  artificial  productions  of  conscious 
art.  They  extolled  the  incomparable  civilisation  of 
the  Middle  Ages  ;  they  were  full  of  admiration  for  the 
marvellous  enthusiasm  of  the  Crusades  ;  they  tried 
to  defend  the  custom  of  tournaments  ;  they  found 
beauty  even  in  the  religious  wars,  and  discovered  a 
certain  poetry  even  in  heraldic  science.  The  poets 
showed  a  predilection  for  subjects  drawn  from  German 
history,  and  took  particular  delight  in  resuscitating 
the  old  epic  and  heroic  traditions.  The  legend  of 
the  Nibelungen  alone  gave  birth  to  a  whole  host  of 
adaptations  and  imitations.  Or  else  they  depicted 
the  life  of  the  people  in  its  characteristic  aspects,  the 
existence  of  the  humble  and  simple  souls  who  were 
very  near  to  Nature. 

Painters  as  well  as  writers  were  involved  in  the 
Romantic  movement.  Some  like  Overbeck  and 
Ph.  Veit  tried  to  restore  a  "  Christian  "  art  and  aimed 
at  attaining  beauty  by  means  of  fervid  religious 
feeling  and  a  deep  mysticism  which  impelled  some 
of  them  to  find  refuge  in  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Others,  like  Steinle  and  Schwind,  found 
inspiration  in  the  traditions  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
gave  form  and  colour  to  all  the  legendary  or  fantastic 
world  called  into  being  by  the  poets  and  tale-tellers. 
In  architecture  there  was  a  revival  of  the  taste  for 
the  Gothic,  which  was  considered  to  be  the  national 
art  of  Germany  (which  is  historically  incorrect)  as 
well  as  the  religious  art  par  excellence,  an  art  which 
"  scaled  the  skies  "  and  raised  the  soul  to  God. 
Great  enthusiasm  was  shown  for  the  completion  of 
Cologne  Cathedral.  Sculptors  extolled  the  simple 
perfection  of  the  Gothic  art  of  the  end  of  the  Middle 


? 


392     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Ages,  and  endeavoured  to  give  their  statues  a  really 
Christian  expression.  The  cult  of  Germany's  past 
showed  itself  even  in  the  dress  of  the  men  and  women, 
and  an  attempt  was  made  to  revive  the  old  German 
costume  ! 

Thus,  after  its  worship  of  Hellenism  and  its 
voyages  of  discovery  through  the  art  of  the  world, 
romanticism  returned  to  its  native  land.  It  aimed 
at  becoming  national  and  religious,  and  sought  its 
inspirations  in  the  past  of  Germany,  and  in  the 
religious  art  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


II 

Nevertheless,  romanticism  clearly  contained  the 
germs  of  dissolution.  When  it  discarded  its  original 
revolutionary  character  and  became  decidedly  re- 
actionary, when  it  made  itself  the  ally  of  feudal 
absolutism  and  clericalism,  when  its  subjectivism 
degenerated  with  certain  enthusiasts  into  a  sort  of 
mystic  folly  and  ended  in  some  cases  in  clearly 
pathological  symptoms,  and  when  its  anti-rationalism 
became  studied  eccentricity  or  affected  puerility,  it 
gradually  lost  its  hold  on  men's  minds.  Immediately 
after  1830,  Heinrich  Heine,  though  he  was  still  half 
a  romanticist  himself,  nevertheless  denounced  with 
a  cruel  irony  the  weaknesses  and  faults  of  his  old 
leaders,  and  covered  them  with  floods  of  ridicule.  It 
was,  moreover,  clear  that  the  development  of  the 
system  of  enterprise  was  hardly  compatible  with 
the  essential  tendencies  of  romanticism.  How  could 
people  who  were  aiming  at  material  power  and 
wealth,  who  were  toiling  with  all  their  might  for  the 
advancement  of  natural  science,  and  for  the  gradual 
rationalisation    of    technical    processes — how    could 


REALISM  393 

such  people  have  continued  to  pay  homage  to  men 
who  placed  reason  below  imagination  and  emotion, 
who  despised  all  useful  activity,  spent  their  lives  in 
defending  "  the  divine  art  of  idleness,"  found  pleasure 
in  the  eccentricities  of  mysticism  or  spiritualism, 
professed  a  fantastic  philosophy  of  nature  from 
which  up-to-date  men  of  science  turned  aside  with 
contempt,  and  reduced  art  to  the  level  of  a  frivolous 
pastime  as  meaningless  as  the  capricious  outlines  of 
an  arabesque  !  How  was  it  possible  for  the  middle 
and  lower  classes  of  Germany,  who  were  marching 
to  the  conquest  of  political  liberty  and  social  emanci- 
pation, to  avoid  protesting  against  the  apologists  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  the  champions  of  the  Holy  Alliance, 
Catholic  clericalism  and  orthodox  pietism,  the  sworn 
enemies  of  the  Revolution  and  democracy  ?  It  is 
obvious  that  the  table  of  values  of  the  representative 
of  capitalistic  enterprise  could  not  be  the  same  as 
that  of  romanticism.  Theoretic  and  practical  reason 
was  in  their  eyes  superior  to  poetic  fantasy,  or 
reverence  for  the  past,  and  the  minute  and  patient 
study  of  objective  reality  had  greater  value  than  the 
brilliant  and  inconsistent  constructions  of  the  artistic 
imagination. 

And  thus  a  more  realistic  spirit  came  to  light  in 
literature  and  art.  Out  of  romanticism  realism 
gradually  sprang  up.  People  still  continued  to  take 
an  interest  in  the  Middle  Ages  and  in  the  past  history 
of  Germany  ;  but  they  were  not  content  with  an 
approximate  and  fantastic  reconstruction.  The  his- 
torical sense  became  more  exacting  and  demanded  a 
more  rigorous  correctness  and  a  greater  precision 
than  before.  With  the  brothers  Grimm  and  their 
successors,  scientific  philology  took  the  place  of 
romantic    dilettantism    and    set    itself    to    make    a 


394  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

methodical  examination  of  the  nation's  past.  At  the 
same  time,  the  historical  novel  and  historical  paint- 
ings endeavoured  to  reproduce  with  accurate  sincerity 
the  spirit  of  the  old  days  and  the  great  moments  in 
the  evolution  of  humanity.  And  thus  in  the  spirit 
of  the  rising  generation  enamoured  of  accurate 
observation,  the  mediaeval  conventions  brought  into 
fashion  by  romanticism  gave  way  to  ever  more 
objective  restorations  of  historical  reality. 

And  with  a  similar  avidity  for  truth  and  sincerity 
literature  and  art  turned  on  the  other  hand  to  the 
reality  of  the  present,  and  applied  themselves  to  de- 
scribing the  life  of  the  nation.     This  was  studied  in 
its  most  diverse  manifestations,  in  all  the  degrees  of  the 
social  scale,  in  all  its  local  variations,  either  in  descrip- 
tions of  the  life  of  the  upper  classes,  of  the  cultured 
minority,  of  the  working  middle  classes,  the  peasant 
and  the  urban  masses,  or  by  conjuring  up  before  our 
eyes  the  various  aspects  of  provincial  or  local  life,  from 
Pomerania  to  Switzerland,  and  from  Swabia  to  Styria. 
And  at  the  same  time  as  art  became  impregnated 
by  realism  it  also  allied  itself  on  occasion  with  ten- 
dencies of  a  practical  nature.     Whilst  romanticism 
inclined  towards  conservative  or  reactionary  tradi- 
tionalism, realism  seemed,  on  the  whole,  and  in  spite 
of  certain  exceptions,  to  show  an  affinity  with  the 
various  shades  of  democratic  opinion  from  middle- 
class  Liberalism  in  its  most  moderate  form  to  the 
extremes  of  Socialism. 

Lastly,  whilst  from  the  point  of  view  of  form 
romanticism  frequently  resulted,  through  its  excess 
of  subjectivism,  in  works  of  a  somewhat  amorphous 
nature,  in  an  entirely  musical  lyricism  or  an  un- 
bridled fantasy,  realistic  art  reacted  against  this 
tendency.     From    the    literary    point    of    view,    the 


REALISM  395 

increased  attention  paid  to  form  had  the  happiest 
results,  particularly  for  the  drama,  in  which  romanti- 
cism had  proved  itself  quite  inferior.  In  the  history 
of  painting  its  influence  was  even  more  important. 
The  romanticists  willingly  subordinated  technique 
to  ideas.  They  made  religious  images,  symbolical 
paintings,  and  colossal  theatrical  scenery  ;  they  re- 
counted episodes  from  history,  or  daubed  pictures 
of  a  humorous  or  touching  nature.  The  essential 
point  in  their  eyes  was  not  so  much  the  real  pictorial 
interest  of  a  picture  as  its  sentimental  and  historical 
interest,  its  symbolical  value  and  its  story-telling 
power.  This  fundamental  misunderstanding  of  the 
importance  of  form  in  matters  of  art  had  fatal  results 
for  romanticist  painting,  and  every  one  to-day  is 
agreed  that  the  works  of  men  like  Overbeck,  Cor- 
nelius, Piloty,  and  Makart,  are  of  very  little  value. 
But  with  the  development  of  realistic  tendencies, 
German  artists  gradually  corrected  this  mistake. 
They  endeavoured  to  give  a  sincere  representation 
of  reality,  and  at  the  same  time  to  interest  the  public 
not  by  some  beautiful  "  thought,"  but  simply  by 
means  of  the  resources  proper  to  their  art,  and  by 
their  technical  excellence. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  for  me  to  attempt,  within 
the  limits  of  this  work,  to  give  an  outline  sketch  of 
this  evolution  towards  realism  which  in  literature  as 
well  as  in  the  fine  arts  was  prolonged  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  nineteenth  century,  without  it  being 
possible,  of  course,  to  draw  a  distinct  line  of  demarca- 
tion between  the  romanticists  and  the  realists.  In 
this  connection  it  is  enough  to  recall  the  case  of 
Kleist,  in  whom  the  realistic  and  the  "  classical  " 
sides  are  both  so  much  developed  that  the  critic 
sometimes  hesitates  to  classify  him  as  a  romanticist. 


396     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Conversely  there  are  a  number  of  realists  like  Gott- 
fried Keller,  in  whom  it  is  easy  to  discern  a  very 
strong  romantic  vein.  And  one  of  the  greatest  artists 
of  the  century,  Heine,  fluctuated  all  his  life  between 
romanticism  and  realism,  equally  attracted  and 
repelled  by  these  two  conflicting  principles — an  un- 
repentant romanticist  through  his  gift  of  imagina- 
tion, an  incorrigible  realist  through  his  reason,  and, 
moreover,  conscious  of  occasionally  suffering  by  this 
dualism  in  his  nature.  Nothing,  then,  could  present 
a  more  delicate  task  than  to  describe  in  detail  the 
transition  from  romanticism  to  realism.  Without 
undertaking  any  such  analysis  we  will  confine  our- 
selves to  pointing  out  the  fact  that  the  outburst  of 
realism  in  Germany  was  almost  contemporaneous 
with  the  development  of  German  imperialism.  The 
culminating  point  of  the  curve  it  described  might 
be  marked  in  painting  by  such  a  man  as  Wilhelm 
Leibl,  whose  scrupulously  realistic  work,  with  its 
unimpeachable  command  of  technique,  is  one  of  the 
most  distinctive  creations  of  modern  German  art. 
In  literature,  the  naturalistic  drama  of  Gerhard 
Hauptmann  and  his  imitators  seems  to  be  the  most 
characteristic  effort  to  depict  with  the  utmost 
possible  objectivity  the  real  life  of  the  present  day  in 
its  most  minute  details,  and  that  without  adulterating 
it  by  any  philosophical  or  aesthetic  considerations. 
And  we  must  not  forget,  in  passing,  that  this  "  con- 
sistent naturalism,"  in  spite  of  its  conscious  objec- 
tivity, has  been  realised  by  the  popular  mind  to  be 
a  democratic  production,  and  that  the  Socialist 
working-classes  have  "  by  the  free  choice  of  their 
own  inclination  "  welcomed  naturalism  in  literature 
just  as,  in  the  domain  of  speculation,  they  made 
straight  for  materialism. 


IMPRESSIONISM  397 

III 

At  the  same  time  as  the  German  art  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  evolved  from  romanticism  to  realism 
it  also  developed  in  the  direction  of  impressionism. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  nervous  sensitiveness 
of  the  modern  man  increased  considerably  during 
the  course  of  the  last  century.  Lamprecht  sees  in 
the  wealth,  the  complexity,  and  the  growing  intensity 
of  elementary  nervous  life  the  great  psychic  fact 
which  dominated  our  era.  And,  whatever  may  be 
our  opinion  of  the  ingenious  hypothesis  by  means  of 
which  he  lays  at  the  door  of  susceptibility  (Reizsam- 
keit)  all  the  economic,  political,  and  artistic  phenomena 
of  modern  German  life,  the  fact  itself  of  the  intensifi- 
cation of  nervous  activity  is  indisputable.  It  is  also 
certain  that  the  history  of  art  in  the  nineteenth 
century  reflects  this  acceleration  in  the  rhythm 
of  existence,  that  over-excitement  of  the  emotional 
faculties,  that  gradual  refinement  in  the  sense  per- 
ceptions, which  everybody  regards  as  one  of  the 
characteristic  features  of  the  world  of  to-day. 

The  earliest  and  perhaps  also  the  most  striking 
manifestation  of  this  evolution  towards  impressionism 
is  apparently  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  music. 

Whatever  opinion  one  may  have  upon  the  much- 
disputed  question  as  to  the  significance  of  music,  it 
seems,  in  the  first  place,  an  incontrovertible  fact  that 
if  one  examines  its  development  since  about  the 
sixteenth  century,  it  has  become  more  and  more  a 
subjective  art  which  expresses  or  reflects  more  and 
more  finely  shaded  states  of  the  individual  soul. 
During  the  Middle  Ages,  when  the  psychic  life  of  the 
individual  had  not  yet  separated  itself  from  that  of 
the  community,  when  everywhere,   in  literature  as 


398     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

well  as  in  art,  in  the  moral  as  well  as  the  religious 
life,  and  in  the  law,  the  same  impersonal  character 
was  always  to  be  found,  and  the  same  conventional 
faithfulness  to  a  type,  music  also  was  an  impersonal 
art.  In  the  period  during  which  counterpoint 
flourished,  that  art  of  complex  rules  which  Wagner 
called  "  the  arbitrary  game  that  art  plays  with 
itself,  the  mathematics  of  feeling,  the  mechanical 
rhythm  of  selfish  harmony,"  musical  composition 
obeyed  mathematical  and  architectonic  principles. 
It  formed  combinations  of  sounds  by  means  of 
objective  and  purely  formal  rules  without  troubling 
for  a  moment  to  make  them  express  anything,  a 
state  of  the  soul,  a  passion,  a  desire  or  a  will.  What 
the  musician  required  in  order  to  be  able  to  create 
was  technical  skill  and  savoir-faire.  His  works 
sprang  from  his  brain  rather  than  from  his  heart. 
They  had,  as  a  rule,  for  their  elementary  principle 
no  subjective  emotion  which,  by  virtue  of  an  inner 
necessity,  tended  to  overflow  and  find  expression  in 
the  language  of  sound. 

In  modern  music,  on  the  contrary,  we  find  a  con- 
stant increase  in  the  importance  of  this  emotional 
and  sentimental  element.  Pure  beauty  of  form  in 
music  ceased  to  be  an  end  in  itself.  The  musician 
is  no  longer  merely  an  industrious  craftsman  ;  he  is 
moved  himself  and  wishes  to  move  others.  He  finds 
the  fundamental  inspiration  for  his  works  in  a 
certain  state  of  the  soul,  in  certain  vibrations  of 
his  nervous  sensibility — vibrations  which  may  be  and 
certainly  are  unconscious  or  semi-conscious,  in  the 
sense  that  the  artist  is  as  a  rule  incapable  of  analys- 
ing them  in  speech,  or  of  defining  their  meaning  and 
various  degrees  of  intensity.  And  these  vibrations 
he    instinctively    endeavours    to    translate    into   the 


IMPRESSIONISM  399 

language  of  sound,  and  then  to  communicate  to  his 
hearers  and  to  arouse  in  them,  by  means  of  this 
language,  vibrations  similar  to  those  which  he  has 
himself  experienced.  The  evolution  of  music  is  thus 
to  a  large  extent  determined  by  a  factor  of  a  psychic 
nature.  The  more  intense  the  psychic  life  of  a 
particular  era  is  the  more  will  men  be  susceptible  to 
feeling  emotions,  delicate,  refined,  and  differentiated 
nervous  impressions,  and  the  more  also  will  music 
endeavour  to  renovate  and  perfect  its  technique  in 
order  to  reproduce  these  impressions  in  all  their 
various  shades  of  intensity.  The  capital  importance 
ot music,  not  only  in  the  history  of  art,  but  also  in 
the  history  of  the  modern  soul,  and  especially  of  the 
German  soul,  thus  becomes  clear.  It  is  the  eloquent 
witness  to  the  development  of  the  nervous  life.  By 
means  of  music  and  through  the  divining  effort  of 
the  musician,  the  elementary  psychic  life,  which  till 
then  had  been  obscure  and  confused,  tended  to  leave 
the  domain  of  pure  unconsciousness  in  order  gradu- 
ally to  blossom  out  into  conscious  clarity. 

And  thus  the  aim  of  music  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury tended  towards  translating  as  adequately  as 
possible,  and  by  ever  more  perfect  technical  processes, 
the  complexity  of  the  modern  soul.  And  conversely, 
the  increasing  complexity  of  the  nervous  life  of 
the  modern  man  was  attested  by  the  very  fact  of 
the  progress  made  in  the  language  of  music.  If  one 
compares  the  language  of  the  musicians  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  century,  such  as  Beethoven,  Schubert 
and  Weber,  with  that  of  the  great  artists  of  the 
middle  and  the  end  of  the  century,  a  Liszt,  a  Wagner 
and  a  Strauss,  one  is  immediately  struck  by  the 
thought  of  how  much  richer  and  more  complicated 
the  latter  are.     Musical  composition  became  at  once 


400    EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

a  more  complex  organism  and  one  that  was  more 
differentiated  in  its  elements  and  also  possessed  a 
more  rigorous  unity.     Harmony  became  more  scien- 
tific and  more  refined  owing  to  the  substitution  of 
an  ever  bolder  use  of  the  chromatic  in  the  place  of 
the  diatonic  upon  which  the  existing  system  is  still, 
at  least  in  theory,  founded.     Polyphony  grew  more 
and  more  complex  in  consequence  of  the  increasing 
importance  given  to  the  accompaniment,  which  had 
for  a  long  time  been  subordinated  to  the  melody. 
Rhythm  constantly  gained  in  liberty  and  variety,  and 
became  ever  more  supple  and  natural  and  less  sub- 
servient to  the  schematism  of  the  time.     Thus  the 
elements  forming    a    musical     composition    became 
more  complicated,  and  were  differentiated  in  such  a 
way  as  to  be  able  to  express  more  and  more  subtle, 
delicate,  tenuous,  and  fugitive  nervous  impressions — 
impressions   which   the   consciousness    of   an   earlier 
age  would  have  been  incapable  of  seizing  and  fixing. 
And   these   elements,  at   the   same   time   as   they 
became  differentiated,  tended  also  to  form  organisms 
of  a  more  rigorous  unity.     To  use  Herbert  Spencer's 
expression,   there  was   a   differentiation,   and  at  the 
same  time  a  growing  integration  in  the  elements  of  a 
musical  composition.     Harmony  became  more  com- 
plex, and  the  use  of  the  chromatic  bolder  than  ever. 
But  the  sense  of  tone  unity  was  also  sharpened  and 
refined    in    similar    proportions  ;     and    it    has    been 
pointed  out  that  in  Parsifal,  for  instance,  the  unity 
of  the   general   tonality    (A   flat   major)   is   perhaps 
stricter  than  the  tone  unity  of  many  symphonies  of 
an  earlier  period.     Rhythm  became  infinitely   more 
subtle  than  before,  the  divergencies  between  rhythm 
and  time  were  of  ever  more  frequent  occurrence,  and 
yet  the  ear  perceived  and  appreciated  the  unity  of 


IMPRESSIONISM  401 

the  most  extensive  and  complicated  systems  of 
rhythm.  But,  above  all,  the  need  of  organic  unity 
in  composition  became  infinitely  stronger  than  it 
was  in  the  past.  There  had  once  been  no  difficulty 
in  admitting  that  a  symphony  or  a  sonata  was  an 
aggregate  of  perfectly  distinct  and  occasionally 
frankly  incompatible  parts.  People  were  not  scan- 
dalised by  the  fact  that  an  opera  was  an  arbitrary 
succession  of  isolated  pieces,  but  faintly  con- 
nected with  each  other  by  the  slenderest  threads, 
an  agglomeration  of  overtures,  airs,  duets,  concerted 
numbers,  choruses,  ballets,  and  intermezzos.  To-day 
the  strictest  unity  of  impression  and  construction  is 
demanded.  In  the  symphony  as  well  as  in  the 
sonata  this  unity  is  sought  by  binding  the  different 
parts  together  in  various  ways ;  and  it  is  hardly 
necessary  in  this  connection  to  point  out  the  care 
with  which  Wagner,  in  his  dramas,  abolished  the 
traditional  divisions  of  opera  in  such  a  way  as  to 
endow  his  works  with  the  strictest  unity.  It  is,  for 
instance,  a  well-known  fact,  that  the  whole  of  the 
Flying  Dutchman  is  only  the  development  of  motifs 
contained  in  the  ballad  of  Senta.  The  harmonious 
symmetry  of  the  plan  of  Tristan  has  often  been  ob- 
served, and  one  ingenious  critic  has  endeavoured  to 
prove,  without  laying  himself  open  to  a  charge  of 
absurdity,  that  the  whole  score  of  the  Meistersinger 
might  be  regarded  as  founded  upon  one  single  theme 
— that  known  by  the  name  of  the  "  spring  "  theme,  in 
which  the  "  organic-mo^'/  "  of  the  whole  work  was 
to  be  found. 

To  sum  up,  it  is  clear  that  musical  language,  in  the 
course  of  the  last  century,  became  infinitely  richer, 
more  scientific  and  subtle  than  before.      It  is  pos- 
sible to  hold  the  opinion  that  this  evolution  was  not 
26 


402     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

progress,  and  that  the  musicians  of  the  past  were 
quite  equal  to  those  of  our  own  day.  I  must  not 
enter  into  any  discussion  on  this  subject.  But  it  is 
at  all  events  certain  that  they  do  not  say  the  same 
things.  If  one  compares  an  opera  or  a  symphony 
by  Mozart,  or  even  one  of  Beethoven's  early  sym- 
phonies, with  the  great  musical  works  which  reflect 
the  tendencies  of  modern  Germany,  with  Wagner's 
latest  operas,  with  symphonic  poems,  or  with  Strauss's 
Salome,  one  sees  at  once  the  radical  change  which  has 
taken  place  in  the  depths  of  the  soul  of  modern  Ger- 
many. For  these  new  works  to  have  been  conceived, 
and  for  them  to  be  understood  by  the  public,  it  was 
not  merely  necessary  for  the  specifically  musical 
sense  to  become  extraordinarilv  refined.  It  was 
requisite  for  the  emotional  faculties  to  be  funda- 
mentally modified,  and  for  the  modern  soul  to  become 
i  susceptible  to  ever  more  subtle,  more  refined  and 
more  intense  vibrations  than  in  the  past. 

And  the  same  thing  holds  good  in  the  case  of 
painting  as  with  music.  Visual  sensitiveness  in- 
creased in  the  same  degree  as  auditory  sensitiveness. 
Lamprecht  gives  an  ingenious  explanation  of  the 
evolution  towards  impressionism  which,  in  the  domain 
of  the  fine  arts,  appeared  first  in  England  and  France, 
and  afterwards  in  Germany  also.  Instead  of  simply 
reproducing  the  external  outlines  of  objects  and 
afterwards  colouring  these  designs  by  means  of  more 
or  less  arbitrary  processes,  painters  gradually  accus- 
tomed themselves  to  note  down  directly  the  impres- 
sions produced  by  coloured  light  upon  the  optic 
nerve,  and  thus  ended  by  no  longer  reproducing  the 
external  world,  as  we  represent  it  to  ourselves  by 
virtue  of  our  acquired  habits,  but  the  instantaneous 
pictures  which  are  reflected  upon  our  retina — that  is 


V  ' 


in-fwjis* 


IMPRESSIONISM  403 


to  say,  a  phenomenon  which  is  in  reality  internal, 
neurological  and  psychological.  Whatever  may  be 
said  for  this  curious  interpretation,  it  is  clear  that 
artists  also  have  learnt  to  see  things  they  did  not 
perceive  before,  or  which  they  instinctively  over- 
looked. They  have  learnt,  for  instance,  to  see  and 
to  paint  light  in  its  variegated  play  and  reflections, 
whilst  the  artists  of  the  old  school  used  to  declare 
the  impossibility  of  fixing  light  upon  canvas.  They 
became  conscious  of  subjective  impressions  which  in 
their  predecessors  did  not  get  beyond  the  threshold  of 
consciousness.  And  if,  among  modern  German  im- 
pressionists, such  as  Liebermann,  Stuck,  Exter,  and 
Hoffmann,  there  was  apparently  no  genius  to  com- 
pare with  Wagner  or  Strauss,  and  if,  on  the  whole, 
visual  sensitiveness  is  perhaps  less  developed  in 
Germany  than  musical  sensitiveness,  it  has  none  the 
less  evolved  in  the  same  direction. 

Poetry  also  followed  the  same  path,  as  is  at  once 
obvious  if  one  compares  the  sensitiveness  of  a  Goethe 
with  that  of  Heine  or  Nietzsche.  Goethe's  was__a 
healthy,  normal  and  harmoniously  balanced  nature. 
Heine's  was  an  excessively  nervous  temperament, 
whose  manifestations  quickly  assumed  a  character 
of  excessive  and  abnormal  intensity  ;  he  suffered  from 
an  acute  hyperesthesia  which  made  him  able  to 
analyse  down  to  the  smallest  details  of  their  com- 
plexity the  apparently  most  simple  states  of  the 
soul  ;  a  capacity  for  emotion  so  great  that  all  his 
feelings  of  joy  or  sadness,  love  or  hate,  were  ex- 
aggerated beyond  measure,  and  filled  his  whole  being 
with  painful  vibrations  ;  a  cruel  irony  which  con- 
demned him  never  to  feel  simple  emotions,  but 
obliged  him  to  scoff  while  he  was  suffering  and  to 
suffer  in  the  midst  of  happiness.     In  Nietzsche  we 


404     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

\  may  also  observe  a  singularly  complex  and  many- 
sided  personality,  who  united  the  very  diverse  gifts 
of  the  artist  and  the  thinker,  the  philologist  and  the 
musician,  an  ardent  and  passionate  nature  who 
lived  his  thoughts  with  an  unheard-of  intensity,  and 
pushed  them  to  their  most  extreme  and  most  tragic 
consequences  ;  who  aimed  at  perpetually  "  surpass- 
ing "  himself,  who  knew  the  most  unspeakable  agonies 
of  solitary  meditation  as  well  as  the  most  extra- 
ordinary ecstasies  of  fruitful  inspiration,  and  pursued 
his  path  without  stopping  or  resting  with  the  energy 
of  despair,  until  the  day  when  his  overwrought  nervous 
system,  stretched  to  breaking-point,  suddenly  became 
unhinged  and  was  engulfed  in  the  night  of  madness. 
He  is  a  particularly  typical  example  of  modern  sen- 
sitiveness. And  if  among  our  contemporaries  we 
can  apparently  no  longer  find  such  extreme  natures,  yet 
even  now  there  is  no  doubt  that  men  like  Richard 
Dehmel,  Stefan  George,  Hugo  von  Hofmannsthal 
are,  in  spite  of  all  the  individual  differences  that 
separate  them,  highly  nervous  temperaments.  Their 
impassioned  and  refined  lyricism,  subtle  and  full  of 
mystery,  shows  into  what  depths  of  the  human  soul 
they  attempt  to  plunge  and  what  obscure  regions  of 
our  elementary  nervous  life  they  delight  to  explore. 

Lastly,  it  must  be  pointed  out  that  just  as  realism 
superimposed  itself  upon  romanticism,  impressionism 
in  its  turn  came  and  planted  itself  upon  realism 
and  romanticism  without,  however,  ousting  them. 
Modern  men  are  at  once  romanticists,  realists,  and 
impressionists.  These  tendencies  are  to  be  found 
among  them  in  different  degrees,  and  are  mingled  in 
various  proportions  without  excluding  each  other. 
And  the  greatest  are  precisely  the  "  problematical 
natures  "  who  resist  all  attempts  at  simple  classifica- 


IMPRESSIONISM  405 

tion.     In    men    like    Wagner,    Nietzsche,    Bocklin, 
Klinger,  and  Gerhard  Hauptmann,  the  most  diverse 
elements  are  to  be  found.     They  are  at  once  true  to 
nature,  idealists,  realists,  and  symbolists,  but  above 
all   impressionists  !      '  The    symbol    of    the   modern 
soul,"  says  Nietzsche,  "  is  the  labyrinth."     When  the 
present  day  is  defined  as  an  era  of  neo-romanticism, 
when  it  is  asserted  that  Germany  is  now  entering 
upon  a  period  of  emotional  culture  in  which  the  most 
important  part  will  belong  to  art,  certain  character- 
istic features  of  the  time  are  undoubtedly  explained. 
Romanticism  is  enjoying  a  fresh  popularity,  and  the 
writers  and  thinkers  belonging  to  that  category  are 
being  studied  with  redoubled  energy.     To-day  just 
as  was  the  case  before,  doubts  are  being  raised  with 
respect  to  "  the  little  sagacity."  1     People  are  plung- 
ing with  sympathy  and  curiosity  into  the  study  of 
religious    phenomena.     Spiritualism    and    even    the 
occult  sciences  are  rejoicing  in  fresh  favour,  as  they 
did  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century.     Music  and 
lyric  poetry  are  held  in  high  esteem,  and  symbolism 
nourishes  in  literature  and  art.     But  contemporary 
Germany  is    none  the  less  enamoured  of    realism, 
which  is  the  classical  ground  of  imperialistic  ration- 
alism.    And    this    characteristic    is    to  be  found    in 
artists  and  thinkers  as  well.     Nietzsche  is,  perhaps, 
a  romanticist,   but  he   is   also   one  of  the  greatest 
realistic  observers  that  Germany  has  ever  known. 
Gerhard    Hauptmann    is    the    romanticist    of    The 
Sunken  Bell,  but  the  realist  of  The  Weavers.     And 
it  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  in  the  work  of  a  man 
like  Klinger  one  should  admire  the  realism  and  the 
impeccable   technique   or   the   intense   lyricism   and 
profound  symbolism  most. 

1  See  note  on  p.  232.  —Tr. 


406  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 

Is  this  rich  and  complex  culture  really  healthy  ? 
Does  it  not  present  some  rather  morbid  features  ? 
German  critics  have  asked  themselves  this  question, 
and  occasionally  display   some   anxiety  in  this  re- 
spect.    The  menace  of  "  decadence  "  to  which  some 
chosen  spirits  like  Heine  and  Nietzsche  succumbed, 
is  clearly  a  danger  for  the  society  of  to-day.     The 
same  symptoms  as  are  to  be  found  in  the  victims 
of    this   evil,  nervous    over-excitability,  enthusiastic 
emotion,  weakness  of  will,  the  undermining  of  the 
unity  of  the  personality,  are  to  be  observed  in  various 
degrees  in  a  large  number  of  individuals.     And  we 
may,  perhaps,  be  allowed  to  feel  some  anxiety  on 
this  account.     If  the  attacks  against  Nietzsche,  for 
example,  have  been  exceedingly  violent,  and  if  even 
to-day  a  certain  amount  of  adverse  criticism  against 
him  has  not  died  out,  it  is  probably  because  he  is 
hated  as  a  type  of   "  decadent,"  and  a  tendency   in 
him  which  is  regarded  as  dangerous  for  the  psychic 
health  of  the  nation  is  opposed.     Generally  speaking, 
however,  fears  of     '  decadence  "  are  not  apparently 
very  widespread  in  Germany  to-day.      People  have 
faith  in  the  somewhat  ponderous  robustness  of    the 
race,  in  the  powers  of  expansion  it  has  shown  in 
the  domain  of  economics,  in  its  military  instinct  and 
its  sense  of  discipline  and  solidarity.     It  is  willingly 
admitted  that  the  excesses  of    present-day  impres- 
sionism are  only  due  to  a  crisis  of  growth,  and  an 
overbalancing  of  equilibrium  which  is  necessary  for 
the    realisation    of    future    syntheses    and    superior 
harmonies.     And   it   is   hoped   that   this   crisis   will 
result  in  a  renaissance  of  Goethean  classicism  and 
scientific  rationalism,  and  an  era  of  renewed  health 
in  which  will  flourish  a  type  of  man  as  rich,  but  more 
subtle  and  harmonious,  than  his^ancestor  of  to-day. 


CHAPTER    III 

SYNTHETIC    ART 
I 

Evolution,  to  quote  once  again  Herbert  Spencer's 
expression  which  we  have  already  used,  is  not  only 
carried  out  by  means  of  differentiation,  but  also 
through  integration.  Natural  development  in  the 
first  instance  goes  from  the  homogeneous  to  the 
heterogeneous,  from  unity  to  diversity.  The  law  of 
gradual  specialisation  is  as  true  in  the  domain  of  art 
as  in  natural  and  physical  science.  It  is  thus  that 
the  "  integral  "  work  of  art  of  primitive  times  with 
which  one  meets  at  the  dawn  of  human  society,  which 
is  a  combination  of  dancing,  poetry,  music,  and 
religious  worship,  tends  to  split  up.  We  find  art 
gradually  becoming  separated  from  religion,  the 
various  arts  which  were  at  first  intermingled  be- 
coming differentiated,  and  ever  more  numerous  sub- 
divisions growing  up  in  each  of  the  branches  of  art. 
But  the  fundamental  law  of  evolution  is  none  the 
less  integration.  In  every  department  of  natural 
phenomena,  in  astronomy  as  well  as  in  natural  his- 
tory, in  biology  and  in  language,  progress  is  made 
by  the  birth  of  ever  more  complex  organisms  and 
ever  vaster  unities.  The  history  of  art  forms  no 
exception  to  this  rule.  At  the  same  time  as  it  shows 
us  the  disintegration  of  the  primitive  "  communion  " 

407 


408     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

of  the  arts,  it  presents  us,  on  the  other  hand,  with 
various  attempts  to  produce  synthetic  works  of  art 
resulting  from  the  collaboration  of  several  distinct 
arts.  Germany  of  the  nineteenth  century  affords 
us,  in  the  domain  of  poetry  and  music  as  well  as  in 
the  plastic  arts,  extraordinarily  interesting  examples 
of  this  effort  towards  synthesis. 

One  may  perhaps  be  tempted  to  find  an  explana- 
tion for  this  integrating  movement  in  a  curious  and 
well-established   phenomenon   of   our  psychic  life — 
that    phenomenon    of    the    correspondence    of    the 
various  kinds  of  sensation  with  each  other  by  virtue 
of  which  waves  of  sound,  for  instance,  can  summon 
up  impressions  of  light,  feelings  of  touch  result  in 
impressions  of  sound,  waves  of  light  engender  sensa- 
tions of  smell,  etc.     This  phenomenon  would  obvi- 
ously belong  to  that  general  development  of  nervous 
sensitiveness  which  we  described  above  as  one  of  the 
essential  characteristics  of  modern  times.     And  this 
is  certainly  to  be  found  in  Germany,  especially  among 
certain  romanticists  in  whom  nervous  life  seems  to 
have  acquired  an  extreme  intensity  which  is  some- 
what abnormal.     Thus  Tieck  makes  various  instru- 
ments,  violins,   hautboys,   and  horns,   sound  in  his 
verses  ;     he   composes   poetic   symphonies,    sees   the 
sound  of  the  flute  as  a  blue  sound,  or  gives   us   a 
picture  in  which  the  song  of  the  nightingale  is  set 
upon  canvas.     In  a  man  like  Hoffmann,  who  suffered 
from    alcoholic    and    neurotic    hallucinations,    these 
correspondences  were  still  more  frequent  and  strange. 
He  proclaimed  that  for  the  musician   sight  was  an 
external   sense   of   hearing,   that   colours,   perfumes, 
rays  of  light,  were  like  sounds  to  him,  and  that  their 
combination  was  a  marvellous  concert.     The  scent 
of  a  red  carnation  roused  in  him  the  sensation  of 


SYNTHETIC    ART  409 

hearing    hunting    horns    in    the    distance.     He    per- 
sonified  musical    intervals.     His   fantastic   creation, 
Kreisler,  says  without  blinking  that  he  is  wearing  a 
coat  the  colour  of  which  turns  upon  C  sharp  minor, 
and  that  it  is  finished  by  a  collar  in  D   major,    and 
moreover  he  threatens  to  stab  himself  with  a  dagger 
in  the  augmented  fifth.     And  after  Hoffmann  phe- 
nomena of  this  kind  were  multiplied  among  artists — 
from  the  painter  Feuerbach,  who  always  connected 
colours  with  musical   impressions,  to  the  dramatist 
Otto  Ludwig,  in  whose  case  the  thought  of  Goethe 
and  Schiller  was  always  connected  with  impressions 
of  colour,   or  the  Kapellmeister    Hans   von    Biilow, 
who  used  to  implore  his  orchestra  to  play  such  and 
such  a  passage  in  a  more  "  red  "  or  more  "  green  " 
way.     These  extreme  and  doubtless  somewhat  morbid 
cases  were  probably  the  excessive  and  exaggerated 
manifestations  of  a  much  more  common  phenomenon. 
If   to-day   we   find   the   technical    processes   of   the 
various  individual  arts  drawing  nearer  together,  if 
more  than  ever  before  we  see  artists  excelling  in  very 
different  branches  of  art  at  the  same  time,  this  is 
perhaps    an    indication    that    in    modern    man    the 
different   psychic   and   physiological   functions   tend 
to  react  more  and  more  upon  each  other,  and  to 
vibrate  simultaneously  in  a  kind  of  mysterious  sym- 
pathy as  soon  as  any  one  of  them  is  brought  into  play. 
However  this  may  be,  it  is  at  all   events  certain 
that  we  find  in  the  nineteenth  century  more  than 
ever   before   the    tendency    for    music    to    approach 
poetry  and  poetry  to  approach  music.     In  the  mag- 
nificent development  of  the  symphonic  poem  from 
Liszt   to   Strauss,  in   the  addition  of   words  set  to 
the    symphony    from    Beethoven    to    Mahler,    the 
attempt  made  by  pure  music  to  be  completed  by 


410     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

words  and  thoughts  is  already  marked.  We  have 
also  pointed  out  in  another  connection  how,  in 
the  case  of  the  romanticists  more  particularly,  the 
attempt  to  express  pure  emotion  impelled  them  to 
exalt  the  art  of  sound  and  to  solicit  the  help  of  the 
musician  in  some  form.  The  union  between  music 
and  the  word  seemed  realised,  though  still  in  an 
elementary  manner,  in  the  song,  which  from  Schubert 
and  Carl  Lowe  to  Schumann,  Brahms  and  Hugo 
Wolff,  attained  a  marvellous  artistic  perfection.  And, 
finally,  it  was  also  manifested  with  incomparable 
richness  and  brilliance  in  the  domain  of  drama  by  the 
extraordinary  works  of  Wagner. 

The  conception  of  a  lyrical  drama  which  would 
not,  like  the  opera,  be  merely  a  more  or  less  in- 
congruous aggregate  of  pieces  of  pure  music,  of 
singing  and  dance  tunes,  but  which  should  be  the 
veritable  result  of  the  sincere  collaboration  of  all  the 
arts,  made  its  appearance  long  before  Wagner  in 
the  history  of  German  civilisation.  It  was  formulated 
from  the  eighteenth  century  onwards  by  sestheticians 
like  Sulzer  or  poets  like  Wieland.  It  played  a  part, 
which  was  exact  to  the  smallest  detail,  in  a  celebrated 
passage  in  Herder's  Adrastda.  And  from  that  time 
it  never  disappeared  from  the  literary  horizon.  It 
has  often  been  observed  that  Schiller's  drama,  "  with 
its  internal  melody  and  its  musical  rhythm,"  tended 
of  its  own  accord  to  find  its  completion  in  music,  and 
that  a  work  like  The  Bride  of  Messina  was  an  opera 
without  music.  Similarly  the  second  part  of  Goethe's 
Faust  would  demand,  in  order  to  produce  its  full 
scenic  effect,  the  help  of  all  the  arts,  and  contains  a 
large  number  of  regular  opera  motifs.  And  so  also 
Wagner  himself  attached  great  importance,  especially 
in  the  second  part  of  his  life,  to  connecting  his  work 


SYNTHETIC    ART  411 

with  that  of  the  classicists  and  to  establishing  the 
fact  that  the  art  of  the  future,  which  was  so  loudly 
scoffed  at  by  his  contemporaries,  should  be  nothing 
more  than  the  blossoming  out  of  certain  seeds  which 
were  already  to  be  found  in  The  Bride  of  Messina 
and  William  Tell.  And  he  delighted  to  prove  that 
his  artistic  idealism  was  descended  in  a  direct  line 
from  the  idealism  of  Schiller. 

Musical  drama  was  also  the  form  of  art  towards 
which  romanticism  gravitated.  Romanticist  thinkers 
like  Schelling,  Solger,  or  Schleiermacher  had  a  pre- 
sentiment of  this,  or  else  endeavoured  to  define  it. 
Hoffmann,  who  was  both  a  musician  and  a  poet, 
formulated  with  perfect  lucidity  the  programme  of 
the  work  of  art  of  the  future,  and  himself  laboured 
to  carry  it  out,  without,  however,  meeting  with 
much  success.  And  even  among  the  contemporaries 
of  Wagner  two  of  the  most  celebrated  masters  of  the 
German  theatre,  Otto  Ludwig  and  Friedrich  Hebbel, 
also  conceived  the  idea  of  musical  drama  previous 
to  1850,  quite  independently  of  Wagner,  and  during 
the  years  that  the  latter  was  producing  his  first  great 
composition.  The  idea  of  '  the  complete  work  of 
art,  "  therefore,  was  not  the  isolated  fantasy  of  one 
artist  of  genius,  but  the  necessary  and  normal  pro- 
duct of  centuries  of  evolution.  It  was  the  realisation 
of  a  programme  formulated  long  before  the  days  of 
the  master  of  Bayreuth,  and  made  its  appearance  as 
the  successful  outcome  of  the  converging  efforts  of 
numberless  generations  of  poets  and  artists. 

It  was  not,  of  course,  and  could  not  be,  the  only 
form  of  art  or  the  final  one.  Profound  as  was  the 
influence  which  Wagner  exercised  over  modern  art, 
the  epoch  of  his  exclusive  predominance  has  already 
for    some   time   past    ceased   to   exist   in    Germany. 


412     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

Musicians  and  dramatists  are  trying  to  emancipate 
themselves  from  his  formulas,  and  critics  are  en- 
deavouring to  determine  his  precise  historical  im- 
portance. The  first  of  these  was  Nietzsche,  who, 
after  having  in  his  Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth 
hymned  Wagner  in  almost  lyrical  accents  as  the 
Dionysian  artist  par  excellence,  afterwards,  as  we  all 
know,  denied  with  incredible  violence  this  god  whom 
he  had  adored,  and  proclaimed  his  grievances  against 
Wagnerism  with  exasperated  passion  to  his  contem- 
poraries. He  described  Wagner  as  an  essentially 
romantic  genius.  He  saw  in  him  a  marvellous  mime, 
an  incomparable  actor,  who  knew  how  to  utilise 
the  resources  of  all  the  arts  to  produce  a  colossal 
whole,  who  turned  himself  into  a  poet,  a  musician, 
a  scene-painter,  and  a  mime,  in  order  to  get  a  firmer 
hold  over  his  audience.  By  his  superior  under- 
standing of  theatrical  effect,  by  his  religious  aspira- 
tions, his  sympathies  for  a  mystic  and  vaguely 
Catholic  asceticism,  by  his  resigned  pessimism,  his 
mistrust  of  conscious  will  and  reflective  action,  he 
was  the  genial  representative  of  the  neo-romanticism 
of  his  day.  But,  in  Nietzsche's  eyes,  this  neo- 
romanticism  had  its  roots  to  a  large  extent  in 
''decadence"  and  in  physiological  degeneracy.  If 
the  influence  of  Wagner  were  allowed  to  grow  and 
the  evolution  of  culture  to  progress  indefinitely  in  the 
same  direction,  the  inevitable  result  would  be  pessi- 
mistic nihilism,  and  subsequently  practical  nihilism, 
and  the  downfall  and  death  of  modern  civilisation. 
The  time  had  come  to  confront  the  romantic  ideal 
with  the  classical  ideal,  the  religion  of  human  suffer- 
ing with  the  worship  of  life  and  the  will  to  power, 
Richard  Wagner  with  Bach  and  Beethoven — or  even 
Bizet — Sophocles,  Racine  and  Goethe. 


SYNTHETIC    ART  413 

And  contemporary  critics,  whilst  they  render  full 
homage  to  the  most  powerful  artistic  genius  that 
modern  Germany  has  produced,  frequently  agree 
with  Nietzsche  in  realising  that  the  Wagnerian  ideal 
could  not  be  an  artistic  and  philosophical  creed  for 
the  men  of  to-day.  They  hesitate  to  place  Wagner 
on  a  level  with  the  real  heroes  of  German  culture, 
men  like  Luther  and  Goethe,  Bach  or  Beethoven. 
The  latter  were  robust  and  healthy  natures,  full  of 
admirable  vitality,  in  whom  energy  seemed  concen- 
trated, and  as  it  were  summed  up  in  a  single  point 
in  order  to  develop  itself  harmoniously  in  all  direc- 
tions. Wagner's,  on  the  contrary,  was  an  extreme 
and  discordant  nature,  which  was  swayed  between 
a  strong  instinct  for  power  and  a  religious  mysticism 
which  aspired  to  Nirvana.  His  art,  which  vibrated 
and  shook  with  emotion,  did  not  take  its  source,  as 
was  the  case  with  the  other  great  geniuses  of  German 
culture,  in  the  richness  of  a  personality  which  was 
overflowing  with  life,  but  in  the  terrific  discords  of  a 
torn  and  tortured  nature.  He  could  not  therefore 
be  the  prophet  of  a  new  era.  In  his  integral  drama 
he  melted  into  one  marvellous  whole  all  the  creations 
of  those  fruitful  epochs  in  which  religions,  cosmogonies 
and  myths  had  been  born.  His  work  summed  up 
the  productions  of  primitive  ages,  and  with  prodigious 
intensity  suggested  the  idea  of  the  energies  which 
created  German  and  European  culture  in  the  past. 
It  was  not  a  forecast  of  the  future,  it  was  not  a  pro- 
phetic vision  of  the  latent  forces  which  lay  dormant 
in  the  heart  of  the  nation  and  determined  the  task  of 
future  generations.  By  the  all-powerful  magic  of  its 
accents,  it  was,  according  to  Max  Graf,  the  swan-song 
which  accompanied  the  twilight  of  the  old  gods,  the 
death-sigh  of  a  culture  which  was  drawing  to  its  close. 


414     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

It  would  seem  that  the  ideal  towards  which  modern 
Germany  is  tending  is  no  longer  Wagnerian  roman- 
ticism. She  endeavours  no  longer  to  realise  the 
integral  work  of  art,  the  great  mythical  drama  which 
by  its  symbols  expresses  the  most  profound  ideas 
of  philosophy  and  religion.  She  would  prefer,  as 
we  have  already  pointed  out,  to  conjure  up  by  her 
prayers  the  advent  of  a  Goethean  art,  an  ideal  of 
proportion  and  harmony,  of  self-mastery,  and  a 
valiant  and  virile  acceptance  of  the  realities  of  life. 
She  must  therefore  seek  outside  Wagnerism  for  the 
formula,  as  yet  undiscovered,  of  that  art  for  which 
she  longs,  but  has  not  found  as  yet. 

II 

In  the  domain  of  the  plastic  arts  as  well,  Germany 
endeavoured  to  produce  synthetic  works  of  art  with 
the  help  of  architecture,  painting,  and  sculpture. 
In  other  words  she  attacked  the  difficult  task  of 
creating  for  modern  houses  a  harmonious  style  which 
should  be  strictly  suitable  for  the  needs  of  the  life 
of  to-day.  It  is,  moreover,  only  quite  latterly  that 
German  artists  seem  to  have  gained  a  clear  idea  of 
the  exact  form  in  which  this  problem  was  posed  and 
began  to  draw  near  to  a  solution. 

The  economic  evolution  which  took  place  during 
the  course  of  the  nineteenth  century  obviously 
brought  in  its  train  profound  modifications  in  the 
conditions  of  material  life.  In  the  construction  of 
public  buildings  or  private  houses,  in  the  arrange- 
ment and  decoration  of  houses  and  flats,  architects 
found  themselves  confronted  by  fresh  demands. 
Moreover,  technical  innovations  of  prime  importance 
had  been  introduced.     The  use  of  iron  and  glass  as 


SYNTHETIC    ART  415 

constructive  materials  increased  every  day,  and  gave 
rise  to  new  architectonic  possibilities.  In  a  large 
number  of  cases,  too,  and  especially  in  the  production 
of  furniture  and  utensils,  mechanical  machinery 
took  the  place  of  the  craftsman's  handiwork.  Thus 
the  modern  artist  found  himself  faced  by  fresh  re- 
quirements, and  to  meet  them  had  new  technical 
resources  at  his  disposal.  And  consequently  the 
very  force  of  circumstances  imposed  upon  him  the 
task  of  creating  an  original  style  in  harmony  with 
the  conditions  of  modern  life. 

Germany  endeavoured  at  first  to  get  out  of  the 
difficulty  by  imitating  the  old  styles.  Artists  copied 
the  Greek  or  the  Gothic,  and  found  inspiration  in 
the  Italian  or  the  French  Renaissance.  In  short,  they 
reproduced  the  forms  of  the  past  instead  of  frankly 
tackling  the  problem  of  finding  new  ones.  Thus  they 
frequently  sank  into  conventionality  and  artifici- 
ality. They  produced  works  devoid  of  architectural 
"  truth,"  works  whose  form  was  fictitious  and  not 
the  necessary  outcome  of  the  use  to  which  the  edifice 
was  to  be  put  or  of  the  materials  used  in  its  con- 
struction. They  also  frequently  employed  inferior 
material  instead  of  the  genuine  stuff — plaster  and 
stucco,  for  instance,  in  the  place  of  stone — without 
deigning  to  consider  that  the  nature  of  the  materials 
employed  should  determine  the  architectonic  forms, 
and  that  any  kind  of  "  imitation  "  was  to  the  last 
degree  inartistic. 

From  this  point  of  view,  the  industrial  art  which 
was  developed  in  the  new  German  Empire  just  after 
the  war  of  1870  marks  the  acme  of  bad  taste.  It 
raised  to  the  position  of  a  principle  the  machine- 
made  imitation,  in  cheap  materials,  of  external 
ornaments  which  had  been  shaped  by  hand  in  good 


416     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

material  at  the  time  of  the  German  Renaissance, 
when  the  "  Baroque  "  and  "  Rococo  "  styles  were  in 
fashion.  As  it  was  proud  of  producing  cheap  manu- 
factured articles  within  reach  of  the  most  modest 
purses,  it  dumped  its  appalling  stock  in  enormous 
quantities  over  all  the  houses  in  Germany,  even  the 
most  humble,  and  thus  really  perverted  the  taste  of 
the  public  belonging  to  the  middle  and  the  lowest 
classes  of  the  population.  Owing  to  its  influence 
there  were  to  be  found  everywhere  sham-bronzes, 
made  of  zinc  covered  with  a  patina,  imitation  leather 
made  of  paper,  windows  of  transparent  paper  stuck 
on  to  ordinary  glass  to  represent  the  leaded  lights  of 
real  windows,  beer  pots  overladen  with  renaissance 
ornament  or  adorned  with  rustic  scenes,  crockery 
heavily  decorated  with  printed  pictures  or  patterns, 
mouldings  in  papier-mache,  and  painted  imitations 
of  wood  and  marble.  And  the  manufacturers  who 
exploited  this  branch  of  industry,  not  content  with 
inundating  the  home  market  with  their  goods,  ex- 
ported their  shoddy  art  wares  abroad,  more  particu- 
larly to  England  and  America,  where  they  naturally 
excited  the  contempt  of  all  who  had  the  smallest 
artistic  taste,  but  nevertheless  found  a  market  owing 
to  their  cheapness.  Yet  this  speculation  was  not 
altogether  a  profitable  one.  If  even  at  the  present 
moment  the  public  opinion  of  other  countries  is  very 
sceptical  with  regard  to  German  "  taste,"  and  some- 
what disposed  to  despise  the  artistic  output  of 
Germany  en  bloc,  this  state  of  mind  can  certainly  be 
largely  explained  by  the  fact  that  in  foreign  countries 
German  art  is  chiefly  represented  by  this  pretentious 
and  shoddy  stock  of  goods,  which  the  cultured  public 
of  Germany  itself  hates  and  condemns  with  the 
utmost  severity. 


SYNTHETIC    ART  417 

It  would  be  exceedingly  unjust  at  the  present  day 
to  continue  to  judge  contemporary  German  art  by  the 
mediocre  productions  of  an  unscrupulous  industry. 
It  is  true  that  Germans  still  export  their  trashy  art 
wares,  and  adorn  their  houses  with  pretentious 
"  imitation "  atrocities.  But  among  the  cultured 
elite  there  has  been  developing,  for  about  ten 
years  past,  a  vigorous  movement  of  reaction  against 
the  errors  of  the  past.  The  promoters  of  this  move- 
ment, drawing  their  inspiration  from  the  principles 
of  decorative  art  in  England,  have  endeavoured  to 
revive  a  sincerely  modern  Teutonic  art  in  Germany. 
They  resolutely  turn  their  backs  upon  the  imitation 
of  ancient  forms,  believing  that  it  is  the  duty  of  our 
age  to  create  original  forms  which  are  suited  to  it. 
Above  all,  they  proscribe  without  mercy  the  cheap 
imitation  of  external  ornaments  borrowed  from  the 
art  of  the  past.  They  proclaim  the  principle  that 
the  use  of  good  material  and  honesty  in  execution 
forma  moral  condition  indispensable  for  the  produc- 
tion of  any  work  of  an  artistic  nature.  They  desire 
that  an  object  should  by  its  form  express  the  use 
to  which  it  is  to  be  applied  and  the  material  of  which 
it  is  made. 

And  at  the  same  time  as  they  are  making  a  dis- 
tinct rupture  with  the  errors  of  their  predecessors 
and  loudly  proclaiming  the  fundamental  principle 
of  "  truth "  and  loyalty,  without  which  no  art 
worthy  the  name  is  possible,  they  also  lay  down 
the  general  principles  which  should  govern  the 
creation  of  new  forms. 

Instead    of    limiting    their    attention    to    isolated 

objects,  they  take  as  their  unit  the  room,  the  inside 

or  the  whole  of  a  house.     Their  aim  is  to  create 

synthetic  works  of  art,  aggregates  which  are  entirely 

27 


418     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

adapted  to  the  use  for  which  they  are  destined,  in 
which  the  architectonic  arrangement,  the  general 
scheme  of  colour,  every  decorative  feature,  and  each 
piece  of  furniture  combine  to  produce  a  whole  im- 
pression of  perfect  convenience,  harmony,  and  light. 
They  do  not  confine  themselves,  moreover,  to  creating 
expensive  interiors  for  the  use  of  the  rich,  but  also 
endeavour  to  do  work  suitable  for  more  modest 
purses.  And,  in  this  connection,  they  have  suc- 
ceeded in  producing  suites  of  furniture  entirely  made 
by  machinery,  but  of  good  quality  and  irreproach- 
able workmanship,  which  can  compete  in  price  with 
the  pretentious  rubbish  which  still  for  the  moment 
encumbers  the  large  furniture  warehouses  of  Ger- 
many. 

German  critics  based  the  greatest  hopes  upon 
this  artistic  movement,  which  is  barely  ten  years  old 
and  which  may  be  destined  to  a  brilliant  future. 
Even  to-day  the  promoters  of  this  renewal  of  the 
art  industry,  who  were  isolated  at  the  beginning, 
have  founded  a  school.  Important  local  centres  have 
been  established — notably  in  Darmstadt,  Dresden, 
Vienna,  and  Munich.  The  new  German  art,  which 
was  very  much  discussed  and  criticised  at  first,  has 
vindicated  its  value  not  only  at  local  exhibitions 
like  the  Darmstadt  Exhibition  of  1901,  which  was 
the  first  imposing  manifestation  on  the  part  of  the 
new  school,  but  also  at  International  Exhibitions, 
especially  at  St.  Louis,  where  it  had  a  very  distinct 
success. 

It  would  no  doubt  be  premature  to  attempt  to 
prophesy  the  fate  of  so  recent  an  undertaking.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  is  now  no  doubt  that  it 
draws  its  inspiration  from  a  fruitful  source,  which  in 
some   shape   or   form   will   certainly   be   realised   in 


SYNTHETIC   ART  419 

time.  Our  era  is  obviously  aiming  at  producing  an 
honest,  practical,  and  sober  art,  which  will  banish  all 
superfluous  ornament,  which  aims  through  the  col- 
laboration of  technical  knowledge  and  artistic  taste 
at  creating  forms  which  are  at  once  rational  and 
aesthetically  satisfactory,  and  which  does  not  limit 
itself  to  building  homes  of  sumptuous  luxury  for  a 
few  rich  persons,  but  also  knows  how  to  descend  to 
the  people  and  endow  with  a  little  beauty  the  sur- 
roundings in  which  the  life  of  the  humble  is  passed. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  birth  of  the  new  syn- 
thetic art,  which  tries  to  make  the  whole  modern 
house  into  a  work  of  art  and  to  give  it  a  style  in  its 
entirety  as  well  as  in  detail,  may  perhaps  be  a  more 
important  fact  than  the  rise  of  some  fresh  tendency 
in  painting  and  sculpture.  The  Germany  of  to-day 
clearly  understands  the  new  duties  of  art  towards 
life,  and  has  formulated  the  most  interesting  principles 
of  artistic  reform.  It  now  remains  to  be  seen  to 
what  extent  artists  will  be  able  to  realise  the  pro- 
gramme which  they  have  set  themselves,  and  also 
to  what  degree  the  public,  whether  at  the  top  or  the 
bottom  of  the  social  scale,  will  second  their  efforts, 
and  prove  themselves  capable  of  that  aspiration 
towards  the  beautiful  without  which  no  synthetic 
and  collective  art  can  ever  be  developed. 


CONCLUSION 

If,  now  that  we  have  reached  the  end  of  our  sketch, 
we  endeavour  to  formulate  the  general  impression 
made  upon  our  minds  by  the  spectacle  of  the  evo- 
lution of  modern  Germany,  I  think  there  is  one 
sentiment  that  will  impress  itself  upon  us  and 
take  precedence  of  all  others,  and  that  is  a  feeling 
of  astonishment  in  the  presence  of  the  prodigious 
development  which  German  power  underwent  during 
the  course  of  the  past  century. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  Ger- 
many as  a  great  Power  did  not  exist.  The  Holy 
Roman  Empire  was  merely  a  ruin  which  was  falling 
lamentably  to  bits  in  the  midst  of  the  general  in- 
difference. There  was  no  longer  any  Germany. 
There  were  only  German  princes,  widely  separated 
from  each  other  and  mutually  jealous,  whose  sole 
care  was  their  own  petty  dynastic  interests,  who 
were  capable  of  every  meanness  and  every  crime  for 
the  protection  or  strengthening  of  their  precious 
sovereignty,  unable  to  subordinate  their  selfish  ends 
to  the  good  of  the  nation,  but  always  ready,  on  the 
contrary,  to  treat  with  the  foreigner  and  even  on 
occasion  to  make  war  on  their  own  countrymen  if 
they  thought  they  could  derive  any  profit  from  their 
treason.  In  this  disunited  and  powerless  nation 
there  was  no  political  life.  Everywhere  there  reigned 
supreme  a  monarchical  absolutism  which  was  fre- 

420 


CONCLUSION  421 

quently  a  depressing  despotism  accepted  by  the 
people  with  a  docility  which  bordered  upon  servility. 
Rigorously  excluded  from  public  matters,  the  peasants 
and  citizens,  artisans  and  townsmen  submitted  pas- 
sively to  the  imperious  and  officious  tyranny  of  the 
State  and  its  officers,  took  not  the  smallest  interest 
in  the  national  life,  and  confined  themselves  to  the 
narrow  circles  of  their  private  occupations.  The 
economic  life  of  the  nation,  moreover,  was  narrow 
and  petty  ;  the  population  was  sparse,  the  country 
poor,  capital  small,  and  industry  almost  non-existent. 
To  escape  from  this  poverty  only  one  path  remained 
open — that  of  thought  and  art.  The  intellectual 
minority  threw  themselves  into  it  in  a  magnificent 
outburst  of  enthusiasm.  And  in  this  partitioned, 
humiliated  Germany,  half  ruined  by  wars  and  in- 
vasions, there  blossomed  a  literary  and  philosophical 
culture  which  perhaps  constitutes  the  nation's 
greatest  title  to  glory.  From  that  time  forward  Ger- 
many had  the  reputation  of  being  the  classic  ground 
of  idealism  and  dreams.  Just  as  England  had  made 
herself  mistress  of  the  seas,  and  France  of  the  land, 
all  that  remained  for  Germany  was,  according  to 
the  well-known  proverb,  the  kingdom  of  the  air. 
And  she  created  for  herself  an  empire  of  incompar- 
able splendour  in  this  domain. 

When,  lo  and  behold !  in  this  backward  nation, 
which  from  the  point  of  view  of  earthly  realities  was 
disinherited  and  apparently  absorbed  in  dreams  and 
mirages,  the  spirit  of  enterprise  began  to  develop  ! 
And  soon  it  became  evident  that,  of  all  the  Western 
nations,  the  German  people  were  perhaps  the  most 
happily  endowed  to  succeed  in  the  economic  struggle. 
In  her  prodigious  stride  Germany  not  only  caught 
up  but  left  behind  the  Latin  races  who  had  had  a 


422  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  GERMANY 


v^ 


long  start  upon  the  path  of  material  progress,  and 
to-day  she  even  menaces  the  old  industrial  and  com- 
mercial supremacy  of  England. 

It  has  been  discovered  that  this  somewhat  slow 
and  heavy,  though  robust  and  healthy  nation,  pro- 
vides an  exceptionally  favourable  basis  for  the  de- 
velopment of  a  capitalistic  civilisation.  Germany  is 
not  by  any  means  artistic,  voluptuous  and  passionate, 
like  the  Latins.  She  is  not,  like  the  latter,  enamoured 
of  far  niente,  leisure,  and  a  life  of  beauty  and  gay 
sociability.  She  is  serious  and  strong,  a  stubborn 
and  conscientious  worker,  who  from  the  earliest  days 
has  been  adapted  to  severe  moral  discipline,  and 
subjected  to  rigorous  military  training.  And  lo  Ijp. 
this  nation  devoid  of  grace  and  brilliance,  but  solid 
and  long-suffering,  there  sprang  up  a  vigorous, 
patient,  and  methodical  will  to  power,  which  was 
capable  of  pursuing  with  untiring  perseverance  the 
end  it  had  set  itself,  without  once  being  dis- 
tracted by  a  caprice  or  a  passion,  without  once 
being  rebuffed  by  a  difficulty  or  an  obstacle.  The 
German  wishes  for  power,  not  so  much  from  any 
personal  desire  to  push  himself  forward  and  make 
himself  respected,  and  not  even  for  the  sake  of  the 
material  advantages  he  may  procure  ;  he  wants 
power  for  its  own  sake,  because  it  is  the  measure  of 
the  true  value  of  a  man,  a  group,  a  party,  or  a  people. 

He  is  impelled  towards  enterprise  by  an  economic 
law  and  by  virtue  of  a  necessity  imposed  upon  him 
by  fate.  The  German,  as  we  have  already  shown,  is 
extraordinarily  prolific.  The  annual  increase  in  the 
population  of  the  Empire  between  1816  and  1900 
was  1*01  per  cent.  ;  between  1900  and  1905  it  reached 
1*50  and  1'45  per  cent.  The  population  increased 
from  almost  25  million  inhabitants  in  1816  to  over 


CONCLUSION  423 

36  millions  in  1855  and  over  60  millions  in  1905. 
About  1820  France  had  four  million  more  inhabitants 
than  Germany.  Shortly  before  the  middle  of  the 
last  century  the  two  countries  each  had  about  34  J 
million  inhabitants.  To-day  Germany  has  20  millions 
more  than  France,  and  the  difference  between  them 
is  increasing  daily.  These  figures  are  an  eloquent 
testimony  to  the  extent  in  which  the  birth-rate  of 
Germany  exceeds  that  of  France,  and  to  the  fact 
that  large  families  are  consequently  more  frequent 
in  Germany  than  in  the  Republic. 

Now  this  is  a  circumstance  which  is  in  the  highest 
degree  favourable  to  the  development  of  capitalism. 
The  annual  increase  of  population  has  furnished  Ger- 
many with  the  army  of  workers  which  is  required 
for  the  development  of  industry.  And  in  the  well- 
to-do  classes  of  the  population  the  spirit  of  enterprise 
has  developed  enormously.  The  German  father  of  a 
family  has  not  the  ambition  that  is  prevalent  among 
French  parents  of  leaving  a  ready-made  position  and 
a  secure  income  for  his  children.  He  gives  them  a 
good  education,  equips  them  well  for  the  struggle  of 
life,  and  then  leaves  it  to  their  own  efforts  to  make  a 
place  in  the  sun  for  themselves.  Under  pain  of 
sinking  and  falling  below  the  level  attained  by  his 
parents  it  is  necessary  for  a  young  man  to  work  hard 
and  exert  himself.  Thus  the  fecundity  of  the  race 
has  in  the  case  of  Germany  been  one  of  the  strongest 
stimuli  in  the  rush  for  wealth  and  power. 

And  this  desire  for  power  is  growing  and  getting 
stronger  in  all  ranks  of  life  in  Germany  and  in  all 
domains  of  human  activity.  It  is  to  be  found  in 
individuals,  in  political  parties,  in  social  groups  and 
in  States.  It  asserts  itself  in  the  breast  of  the  whole 
German  community  in  the  shape  of  imperialism  and 


424     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

a  universal  policy.  It  tends  towards  military,  naval, 
and  diplomatic  supremacy,  towards  economic,  indus- 
trial and  commercial  hegemony,  and  scientific  pre- 
eminence— for  science  also  is  a  form  of  human  power, 
and  it  is  certainly  to  German  science  that  Germany 
owes  a  large  share  of  her  success.  The  will  to  power 
is  gradually  ousting  from  the  German  mind  the 
aspiration  for  culture,  and  is  imperceptibly  pushing 
the  latter  into  the  second  place.  The  cult  of  art  is 
cooling  down,  or  rather  is  changing  in  character ;  art 
is  no  longer  regarded  as  an  end  in  itself,  but  merely 
as  an  accessory  to  life.  And  the  worship  of  force  is 
increasing  in  Germany.  But  it  must  be  confessed 
that  the  power  the  Germans  revere  is  not  brutal, 
tyrannical,  capricious,  and  arbitrary  force,  which 
delights  in  stupid  oppression  and  denies  all  rights. 
They  worship  intelligent  and  deliberate  power  which 
imposes  itself  lawfully  through  its  own  virtue ; 
because  it  is  not  only  inevitable,  but  also  useful,  wise 
and  normal  for  strength  to  take  the  lead  of  weakness 
and  for  the  superior  monad  to  hold  the  inferior  one 
in  subjection.  They  revere  that  Might  which  is  at 
the  same  time  the  Right,  because  it  is  the  expression 
of  a  real  superiority  which  should  in  all  justice  be 
recognised  and  respected. 

It  must,  moreover,  be  pointed  out  that  the  effort 
to  gain  power  is  as  orderly  a  process  as  possible 
among  the  Germans. 

The  system  of  unrestricted  competition,  by  insti- 
tuting war  on  the  part  of  each  individual  against 
all  the  rest  and  thus  stimulating  private  selfishness 
to  the  highest  degree,  certainly  contained  within 
itself  an  anarchical  and  dissolving  principle.  It  was 
capable  of  exciting,  as  it  once  did  in  Italy  at  the 
time  of  the  Renaissance,  exasperated  individuals  to 


CONCLUSION  425 

fight  desperately  against  each  other  for  supremacy, 
and  to  destroy  each  other  without  mercy.  Yet  it  is 
a  very  remarkable  fact  that  the  development  of  the 
system  of  free  enterprise  in  Germany  has  not  en- 
tailed consequences  of  this  nature.  The  competition 
among  individuals  or  bodies  is  very  keen,  but  it 
never  degenerates  into  disordered  convulsions. 

The  struggle  between  the  German  States  for 
political  hegemony  was  very  long  and  fierce,  and  it 
was  finally  decided  by  war.  But  once  the  verdict 
of  force  had  been  given,  antipathies  were  calmed 
after  quite  a  short  interval,  and  hatreds  died  out. 
And  instead  of  wasting  time  in  useless  grudges,  or 
squandering  her  power  in  vain  rebellions,  Germany 
rapidly  accepted  the  new  order  of  things  imposed 
upon  her,  and  united  all  her  forces  with  a  view  to 
political  and  economic  struggles  in  Europe  or  the 
world.  Similarly  the  struggle  between  political 
parties  was  obstinate  and  persistent.  But  it  hardly 
ever  ended  in  any  serious  trouble.  The  conflict  be- 
tween the  classes  was  perhaps  more  serious  than 
anywhere  else.  But  it  was  not  of  a  revolutionary 
character.  Even  among  the  Socialists,  the  irrecon- 
cilable adversaries  of  the  capitalistic  state  in  Ger- 
many, the  reforming  type  of  mind  tended  more  and 
more  to  gain  the  upper  hand.  They  condemned 
without  exception  all  appeal  to  violence,  all  attempts 
to  gain  their  ends  by  force  ;  they  openly  repudi- 
ated anti-militarism  and  recourse  to  general  strikes. 
Industrial  and  commercial  competition  is  very  keen 
and  private  initiative  exceedingly  bold  and  vigorous. 
Yet  Germany,  the  classic  ground  of  cartels  and  great 
associations  of  masters  and  men,  is  certainly  also 
one  of  the  countries  where  the  most  has  been  done 
toTregulate  production,  to  institute  control  over  the 


w 


426     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

rate  of  exchange,  and  consequently  to  restrict  com- 
petition, limit  the  frequency  of  crises,  and  diminish 
their  severity  when  they  do  occur. 

To  sum  up :  personal  enterprise  is  very  strong  in 
Germany,  but  it  does  not  result  in  anarchic  indi- 
vidualism. And  the  explanation  of  this  fact  is  to 
be  found  in  a  well-known  racial  characteristic.  The 
German  has  less  need  than  men  of  other  countries 
to  develop  his  complete  personality.  He  willingly 
confines  himself  to  some  special  occupation,  to  which 
he  delivers  himself  up  unreservedly.  He  gladly 
sacrifices  a  part  of  his  individuality  and  limits  him- 
self, to  use  the  expressive  German  word,  to  being 
merely  a  Teilmensch,  a  fraction  of  a  man,  a  specialist 
who  performs  with  conspicuous  superiority  some 
particular  task,  without  troubling  his  head  about 
anything  that  exists  outside  the  carefully  bounded 
domain  in  which  he  barricades  himself.  And  for 
this  reason  too  he  loves  to  join  associations  and  to 
be  a  subordinate.  He  takes  delight  in  becoming  a 
member  of  the  innumerable  Vereins  of  all  kinds  that 
have  sprung  up  in  Germany,  and  enjoys  the  feeling 
that  he  is  an  integral  portion  of  a  vast  organisation 
of  which  he  is  a  more  or  less  essential  wheel.  He  is 
pleased  to  associate  his  private  destiny  with  the  fate 
of  some  vast  enterprise,  to  the  success  of  which  he 
is  ready  to  devote  his  life.  In  a  word  he  has  the 
instinct  of  discipline.  He  knows  how  to  obey  and 
also  how  to  command  ;  he  knows  how  to  execute 
punctually  the  orders  he  has  received,  as  well  as  how 
to  display  initiative  in  the  sphere  assigned  to  him. 
The  German  nation  thus  provides  admirable 
human  material  wherewith  to  build  up  the  colossal 
organisms  of  all  kinds  which  go  to  constitute  the 
system  of  enterprise  :   national  armies,  great  admini- 


CONCLUSION  427 

strative  bodies,  vast  financial,  industrial  and  com- 
mercial enterprises,  syndicates  and  cartels.  There 
is  no  department  of  life,  even  to  the  domain  of  art, 
in  which  he  does  not  aim  at  producing  a  synthetic 
work,  either  in  the  shape  of  musical  drama  or  an 
edifice  with  a  style  in  all  its  various  parts.  And  this 
taste  for  association  and  subordination  is  innate  in 
the  German.  He  is  not  obliged  to  resign  himself  to 
discipline.  He  practises  it  with  joy.  He  becomes  a 
specialist  by  desire,  and  feels  no  regret  for  the  things 
which  will  for  ever  remain  beyond  his  horizon.  He 
shuts  himself  up  within  the  limits  of  his  means,  in 
his  Fach,  with  a  certain  austere  joy  which  is  often 
mixed  with  a  slight  disdain  or  amused  irony  with 
regard  to  the  dilettante  who  meddles  with  matters 
he  knows  little  about,  and  who  professes  to  discuss 
de  omni  re  scibili  and  boldly  tackles  the  deepest  pro- 
blem of  politics  or  religion,  art  and  morality.  His 
serious  side,  his  Grundlichkeit,1  instinctively  despises 
improvisers,  bunglers,  Jacks-of-all-trades,  who  touch 
upon  every  subject  with  an  audacity  only  to  be 
equalled  by  their  incompetence.  He  takes  pride  in 
not  transgressing  beyond  the  bounds  of  things  he 
knows.  Or,  to  put  the  matter  more  simply,  he  is 
lacking  in  curiosity  and  for  him  the  universe  ends 
with  the  limits  of  his  own  speciality. 

This  instinct  for  discipline,  this  sense  for  an  order 
of  rank  which  is  so  widespread  in  Germany,  has  as 
its  first  consequence  the  conservative  attitude  of  the 
nation  as  a  whole.  Individual  thought  in  Germany 
is  extremely  bold  ;  it  recoils  from  no  problem,  and 
examines  them  one  and  all  with  complete  independ- 
ence. But  at  bottom  it  detests  radical  solutions. 
In  religious  matters  Germany  is  neither  "  atheisti- 

1  Thoroughness. — Tr. 


428     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

cal  "  nor  "  clerical."  She  repudiates  none  of  the 
conquests  of  scientific  rationalism.  But  she  still 
preserves  a  sincere  veneration  for  the  instinctive 
wisdom  which  finds  its  expression  in  the  religious 
evolution  of  humanity.  And  she  tries  her  best  to 
reconcile  science  and  faith,  rational  truth  and  tradi- 
tional truth.  Similarly  in  politics  she  endeavours 
to  unite  the  principle  of  authority  with  that  of 
democracy.  She  would  no  longer  tolerate  despotic 
absolutism.  Yet  she  keeps  a  spontaneous  respect  for 
monarchy,  for  the  established  hierarchy  and  for 
"  qualified "  authorities.  German  democracy  does 
not  arrogate  to  itself  the  position  of  being  the  only 
mistress  of  the  nation's  destinies,  but  willingly 
shares  its  power  with  a  supreme  head  it  has  not 
chosen  but  whom  tradition  has  provided. 

Moreover,  it  seems  that,  thanks  to  her  sense  of 
discipline  and  order,  Germany  is  gradually  raising 
herself  to  a  conception  of  life  as  a  unity  which  is 
little  by  little  correcting  and  completing  the  com- 
bative idea  of  unrestricted  competition.  And  it  is 
in  this  respect  that,  in  my  opinion,  her  evolution 
most  deserves  our  admiration.  The  development  of 
political  parties,  social  groups,  syndicates  of  masters 
and  men,  and  the  tremendous  extension  of  social 
insurance  schemes  prove  the  continual  progress  made 
in  the  idea  of  solidarity.  The  unchaining  of  universal 
competition,  and  the  war  of  each  man  against  his 
neighbour,  have  gradually  given  place  to  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  necessity  for  a  united  struggle  for  power. 
After  a  period  of  great  upheavals,  of  instability  and 
insecurity,  caused  by  the  development  of  the  system 
of  free  enterprise,  Germany  expects  and  hopes  for 
the  advent  of  a  more  secure  economic  and  social 
order,  a  more  stable  hierarchy,  and  a  less  uncertain 


CONCLUSION  429 

moral  "  faith."  After  the  colossal  struggle  for 
political  supremacy  and  material  wealth,  she  aspires 
to  a  renaissance  of  the  idealistic  impulse  towards 
culture  and  art.  These  are  certainly  beautiful  aims. 
However  uncertain  they  may  be,  it  is  enough  for 
them  not  to  appear  impossible  of  realisation  for 
Germans  to  have  the  right  to  look  with  legitimate 
pride  at  the  road  already  covered,  and  to  gaze  with 
some  optimism  into  the  future  towards  which  they 
are  marching. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  point  out  that  for  the 
moment  the  consciousness  of  unity  among  Germans 
remains  almost  exclusively  national.  The  German 
feels  himself  more  and  more  at  one  with  other 
Germans.  But  in  connection  with  other  nations  he 
generally  holds  the  combative  idea  of  unrestricted 
competition.  The  fundamental  strength  of  German 
nationalism  to-day  forms  in  this  respect  a  striking 
contrast  with  its  generous  cosmopolitanism  a  hun- 
dred years  ago.  Pan-German  imperialism  which  is 
so  robust  and  combative,  so  confident  in  its  power 
and  in  the  star  of  its  fate,  so  energetic  in  its 
enterprises,  and  moreover  so  vigilant  and  inclined  to 
take  alarm,  so  prompt  to  threaten  on  occasion,  and 
so  decided  in  repelling  all  solicitations  on  the  part 
of  peace-advocates  and  internationalists,  is  cer- 
tainly an  example  and  a  warning  to  other  nations. 
It  shows  that  the  era  of  competition  is  not  even 
to-day  at  an  end,  either  in  the  case  of  individuals  or 
of  nations,  and  proves  moreover  that  a  country 
should  in  any  case  still  keep  its  strength  intact. 

Is  the  present  nationalism  of  Germany  destined  to 
be  the  end  of  her  evolution  for  some  time  to  come  ? 
There  may,  perhaps,  be  some  reason  to  hope  that 
she    will    not    stiffen    herself    indefinitely    into    this 


430     EVOLUTION    OF    MODERN    GERMANY 

pugnacious  attitude,  and  will  not  prove  herself  an 
obstacle  to  the  realisation  of  a  less  anarchical  state 
of  things  in  the  civilised  world.  And  why,  indeed, 
should  not  the  country,  which  in  her  own  national 
development  showed  such  a  clear  understanding  of 
the  necessity  for  competition  and  combination,  of 
fruitful  emulation  and  unity,  why  should  she  not 
gradually  raise  herself  from  the  point  of  view  of 
national  solidarity  to  that  of  the  unification  of 
Europe  and  of  the  human  race  ?  There  are  numerous 
symptoms  which  indicate  that  from  many  points  of 
view,  but  especially  in  the  domain  of  science  and 
economics,  as  well  as  in  scientific  and  artistic  cul- 
ture, this  evolution  has  long  since  begun  in  Germany 
as  well  as  in  other  countries.  Perhaps  it  is  not 
altogether  chimerical — and  it  is  with  this  hope  that 
I  would  end  this  study — to  think  that  the  twentieth 
century  will  see  the  growth  and  spread  of  the 
modern  religion  of  unity,  and  that  we  shall  gradually 
approach  the  ideal  of  the  "  good  European  "  which, 
during  the  height  of  the  nationalistic  enthusiasm, 
Nietzsche  had  the  courage  to  preach  to  his  country- 
men. 


INDEX 


Africa,  German  Colonies  in,  151, 
152,  155 

—  163 

Algeciras,  Conference  of,  144 
Allgemeine  Deutsche  Burschen- 

schaft,  Students  of,  89 
Allmenden,  31 
Alsace-Lorraine,    90,    102,    134, 

139,  140,  249,  262 
Anglo-French       Understanding, 

144,  145 
Anglo-German  Treaty,   156 
Argentina,  43 
Aristotle,  252,  292,  353 
Asia,     German    emigration     to, 

151,  152 
Asia  Minor,  153 
Auerbach,  171 
Augustine,  Saint,  261 
Australia,    German   colonies   in, 

151,  152 
Austria,  66-70,  143,  242,  260 

—  Attitude  and  policy  towards 
German  Federation,  72,  73, 
74-76,  79,  84,  121,  122,  124 

—  Policy  in  European  politics, 
73,  74 

—  Defeat  of  and  exclusion  from 
Germany,   129-130 

—  German  population  of,  149 
Austrian  Empire,  The,  74 
Austro-German  Alliance,  143, 144 
Avenarius,  326 

B 

Bach,  385,  412,  413 
Bacon,  376 
Baden,  137,  239 

—  Grand  Duchy  of,  96,  104 

—  Grand  Duke  Charles  Freder- 
ick, 97,  105 

— Charles,  97 

—  Revolt  of  Radicals  in,  107 


Bahnsen,  331 

Ballestrem,  Count,  246 

Bamberger,  187 

Barmen-Elberfeld,  22 

Bassermann,  104 

Bauer,  The  Brothers,  103,  314 

Baur,  273 

Bavaria,  96,  98,   135,   137,  240, 

264 
Bayreuth,  411 
Bebel,  315 

Beck,  Karl,  104,  264 
Beethoven,  361,  370,  385,  399, 

402,  409,  412,  413 
Belgium,  Flemish,  66,  150 

—  Constitution  of,  126 
Beneke,  324 
Bennigsen,  187 
Bergmann,  286 
Berlepsch,  Herr  von,  207,  208 
Berlin,  21,  201 

—  Rising  in,  105,  107 

—  Convocation  of,  207 

—  Workmen's  School  at,  377 
Bernard,  Saint,  261 

Berne,  Republic  of,  382 

Bernstein,  172 

Bismarck,     Prince,     112,      187, 

190,  202,  203 
Character  and  Ideals,  116— 

120 
Appointed  Prime  Minister, 

127 
Policy    of,    127-130,    173, 

177,  181,  182,  204-208 

Quotation  from,  131 

Attitude  to  France,   132- 

137,  140 
Foreign    policy,    143-145, 

154 

Colonial  policy,  155-157 

Attitude    to    Catholicism, 

243,  244 
Bizet,  412 
Blanqui,  171 


431 


432 


INDEX 


Bliicher,  88 
Bdcklin,  405 
Boehme,  225 
Bonn,  239 

Bourbon  Family,  The,  73 
Brahms,  410 
Brentano,  201 
Brunswick,  28 

—  Elector  of,  76 
Biichner,  314,  318,  320 
Biilow,  Hans  von,  409 
Bund  der  Industrielle,  178 

—  der  Landvvirte,  183 

C 

Calderon,  373 

Canossa,  243 

Caprivi,  156,  157,  162,  163,  182, 

208,  247 
Catholic     Centre     Party,     aims 

and  policy,  185,  246-250 

Formation  of,  23 

Catholicism,  Reforming  of,  215- 

217 

—  Effect  of  French  Revolution, 
217,  218,  219 

—  Decline  of,  218,  221 

—  Renaissance  of,  220,  229-236 

—  Conflict  with  State,  222-224, 
240-244 

—  Influence     of     Romanticism, 
224-231 

—  Opposition    of    Rationalism, 
231 

—  Triumph  over  Liberal  Catho- 
licism, 237,  240 

—  Consolidation  of,  246-250 

—  Attitude     to     Science,     252, 
253,  255,  318 

Chinese  War,  248 
Claudius,  262 
Clauren,  380 
Cohen,  Hermann,  325 
Cologne,  229 
■ —  Archbishop  of,  240 
Communistic  Federation,  Mani- 
festo of,  51 
Confederation  of  the  North,  131 

—  of  the  South,  131 
Conservative       Party,       Ideals, 

180 

Policy,  180-184 

Constantinople,   153,  223 
Cornelius,  395 
Crimean  War,  The,  130 


Croatia,  149 
Czerski,  239 
Czolbe,  314,  318 

D 

Dahlmann,  91 
Dante,  388 

—  The  Monarchia,  88 
Darmstadt,  Exhibition  of,  418 
Darwin,  314,  333 

—  Origin  of  Species,  320 
Dehmel,  Richard,  404 
Democritus,  315 
Dernburg,  Herr,  157 
Descartes,  280 

Deutsche     Kolonialgesellschaft, 

155 
Diet,  The.     See  Frankfort. 
Dillengen,  University  of,  237 
Dingelstedt,  104 
Dollinger,  239 
Dresden,   107,  418 
Diihring,  204 
Durer,  Albert,  390 

E 
Ebbinghaus,  324 
Egypt,  101 

Ehrhard  of  Strasburg,  250 
Eichhorn,  103,  180 
Eichstadt,  235 
Elbe,  country  of,  28 

—  Duchies  of,  130 
Ems,  Despatch  of,  136 

—  Punctatio  of,  217 
Engels,  51,  314 

England,  67,  134,  154,  262,  265, 
416,  417 

—  Demand    for    German    agri- 
cultural products,  8 

—  Competition     with     German 
industry,   10,  422 

—  Political  condition  of,  98,  99 

—  Alliances  and  foreign  policy, 
145 

—  Commercial     supremacy     of, 
17,  422 

—  Socialism  in,  compared  with 
Germany,  52 

Epicurus,  315 
Erasmus,  275 
Erfurt,  259 

—  Programme  of,  314 
Erlangen,  264 
Erzegebirge,  21 


INDEX 


433 


Eucken,  286 

Europe,  German  population  in, 

152 
Exter,  403 

F 
Fallersleben,  Hoffmann,  von,  104 
Febronius.     See  Hontheim. 
Fechner,  286 
Federation,  Act  of,  70,  72,  75 

Revision  of,  105 

Feudalism,  32,  33 

—  Abolition  of,  34-37 

—  Revival  of,  126 
Feuerbach,  103,  314,  331,  409 

—  and  Young  Germany,   51 
Fichte,  51,   191,  227,  283,  286, 

287,  318,  329,  335,  357,  358, 
381-384 

—  Attitude   to   German   Unity, 
87,  88 

—  Discourses     to     the     German 
People,  88 

—  Discourses     to     the     German 
Nation,  195 

Fiji  Islands,  154 
Fischer  Kuno,  325 
Flurzwang,  Law  of,  32 
France,  142,  260,  279 

—  Physiocrats  of,  5 

—  Commercial  position  of,  1 7 

—  Administration,  83 

Influence  on  Germany,  97, 

98 

—  Designs  on  Egypt,  101,  102 

—  Demand  for    war   with   Ger- 
many, 102 

—  Outbreak  of  Revolution,  104, 
105 

—  Army  of,  144 

—  Population  of,  145,  426 

—  Foreign  policy,  145,  146,  147 

—  Book   production,    compared 
with  Germany,  364 

Francis,  Emperor,  68,  72,  73 
Franco-German  War,  11 
Effect  on  German  Com- 
merce, 12 

Causes  of,  132,  136 

Franco-Russian    Alliance,     144, 

145 
Francke,  262 
Frankenstein,  von,  246 
Frankenwald,   21 
Frankfort,  21,  70,  331 

28 


Frankfort,  Diet  of,  70,  75,  105, 
240 

—  Parliament  of,  its  failure, 
106-113,   121,   123 

—  Treaty  of,  140,  147 
Frederick  I.,  King  of  Wurtem- 

berg,  97,  105 
Frederick  William  III.,   92,   95, 

293 
IV.,  92,  96,  101,  103,  104, 

116,  118,  201,  232,  263,  264, 

293,  294,  318 
Refusal    of    the    Imperial 

Crown,  110,  121,  123 
Free  Syndicates,  53 
Freiligrath,  104 
French   Revolution,    Effect    of, 

6,  72,  82,  217-219 
Friedrich,  239 
Fries,  286 

Frint,  Bishop  of  Saint-P61ten,238 
Furth,  10 

G 

Gallitzine,  Princess  Amelia  of, 
235 

Gemengelage,  Abolition  of,  36 

Gentz,  229 

George,  Stefan,  404 

Germany,  Industries  and  com- 
merce, 8-17,  20-24,  46,  47, 
152-154,  160-164,  416,  417 

—  Agricultural  development, 
18-20,  28-42,   160 

and  foreign  competi- 
tion,  43 

—  Towns,  growth  of,  21,  22 

—  Wholesale  production,  25-27 

—  Population,  growth  of,  42- 
45,  422,  423 

—  Exports  and  imports,  45-47 

—  Class  distinctions,  old  and 
new,  48-51,  55-57 

—  Labour  movement  in,  52-54 

—  Economic  position  of,  58, 
59,  67 

—  Growth   of   Imperialism,    65, 

66,  100,    158-160,    165,    423, 
424,  429 

—  Colonies,  66 

—  Maritime  power,  Foundation 
of,  66  ;    extension  of,  163 

—  Conflict  of  Political  Parties, 

67,  160-164,  168 

—  Foreign  Policy,    66-68  ;     to- 


434 


INDEX 


wards  France,  140-142,  146- 
148; 
Germany,  Foundation  of    Con- 
federation, 70-72,  79,  89 

—  Failure  of  Confederation,  84, 
85 

—  Unity,  Struggle  for,  88,  89, 
124 ;  achievement  of,  130- 
132,  137,  425 

—  Liberalism  in.   See  Liberalism 

—  Constitutional  Government 
established  in  South,  98-100 

—  Army  of,  142,  143 

—  Extension  of  Empire  and 
Colonies,  149-157 

—  Socialism  in.     See  Socialism. 

—  Education,  Growth  and  ex- 
tension of,  192-199,  363,  364 

—  Social  Reform,  202-210 

—  Catholicism  in.  See  Catholi- 
cism. 

—  Protestantism  in.  See  Pro- 
testantism. 

—  Materialism,  Growth  of  in 
Religion,  313-320 

Decline  of,  321-323 

—  Influences  of  Positivism,  324- 
328 

Nietzsche   and   the   Pessi- 
mists, 328-347 
Hellenism,  352-356 

—  Art,  Effect  of  Utilitarianism, 
362,  363,  368,  369.  See 
Romanticism,  Realism,  Im- 
pressionism. 

—  Book  production,  365 

—  Architecture  in,  375,  414,  415 

—  Consolidation  of  Power,  422 
German  character,  58,  80,  356, 

422, 423, 424, 425, 426, 427,  428 
Gesner,  353 
Gneisenau,  88 
Goethe,  225,  257,  268,  286,  287, 

325,  347,  354,  357,  373,  374, 

380,  387,  388,  390,  403,  409, 

412-414 

—  Hellenic  Culture,  354-356 

—  Faust,  356 

—  Travels  of  Wilhelm  Meister, 
356,  367,  368,  384 

—  Quotation  from,  on  Journal- 
ism, 365 

Gorki,  Maxim,  377 

Gorres,  88 

Gotha,  Congress  of,  51 


Goyau,  310 

Graf,  Max,  413 

Greece  and  Neo-Hellenism  in 
Germany,  352,  353 

Greeks,  The,  387 

Gregory  VII.,  Pope,  243 

Gregory  XVI.,  Pope,  quota- 
tion from  the  Bull  Pastor 
JEternus,  236 

Grimm,  The  Brothers,  393 

Gruber,  Bishop  of  Salzburg,  238 

Grundherr,  33 

Griin,  Karl,  51 

Guelf  Windthorst,  242 

Guilds  :  their  effect  on  Ar- 
tisans, 4,  5 

—  Destruction  of  system,  7, 
22-24 

H 
Haeckel,  314,  315 

—  The  Riddle  of  the  Universe, 
322,  323 

Hamann,  262 
Hambach  Festival,  91 
Hanover,  King  of,  76 
Hanover,  28,   123,   130 
Hapsburg  Family,  The,  78 
Hardenberg,  6,  187 

—  Policy  of,  78,  79,  95 

—  Reforms  of,  82,  83 
Harms,  Claus,  264 
Harnack,  271 

—  Essence  of  Christianity,  346 
Hartmann,    Philosophy    of    the 

Unconscious,  331 
Hartz  Mountains,  21 
Hasselmann,   171 
Hauptmann,  Gerhard,  377,  396 

The  Weavers,  21,  169,  405 

Sunken  Bell,  345,  405 

Hebbel,  Friedrich,  360,  411 
Hecker,  104 

Hegel,  51,  191,  276,  286,  287, 
293,  323,  324,  326,  358 

Heidelberg,    107 

Heine,  Heinrich,  100,  101,  170, 
232,  377,  396,  403,  406 

Attitude  to  France,  102, 103 

Romancero,   331 

Last  Poems,  331 

Intermezzo,  387 

and  Romanticism,  392 

Heligoland,    156 


INDEX 


435 


Helmholz,   324 
Helvetius,  280 
Hemsterhuys,  225 
Hengstenberg,  293 
Henry  IV.,  Emperor,  243 
Herbart,  324 
Herder,  231,  268,  353,   390 

—  Adrast&a,  410 

Hermes,  Professor  of  Bonn,  238 

Hess,  Moses,  51 

Hesse,  Electorate  of,  294 

—  Princes  of,  76,  105 
Hesse-Cassel,  130 
Hesse-Darmstadt,    Prince    Fre- 
derick of,  229 

Heyne,  353 

Hirsch-Duncker        Professional 

Associations,  52 
Hoedel,  204 
Hceffding,  324 
Hofbauer,       Father       Clemens 

Maria,  235 
Hoffmann,   117,   264,   386,   403, 

408,  409,  411 
Hofmannstahl,  Hugo  von,  404 
Hohenlohe,  Prince,  155,  157 
Hohenlohe-Waldenburg,     Chris- 
tian  von,    Prince    Bishop    of 

Breslau,    237 
Hohenstaufen,    The,    390.      See 

Ottos 
Hohenzollern,  House  of,  74,  78, 

93,  189,  242,  248,  301 

—  Empire  of,  244 
Holbach,  Baron,  316 
Holderlin,  387 

Holland,  9,  66,  150,  260,  262 
Holy  Alliance,    102,    116,    130, 

393 
Homer,  352,  373 
Hontheim,  Johann  Nikolaus  von 

(Febronius),  216,  217 
Huene,  Von,  246 
Hufe,  31 

Hugo,  Victor,  117,  382 
Humboldt,  William  of,  16,  187, 

353,  354 
Pamphlet    on    Limits    of 

State  Interference,  5 

Policy  of,  78,  79,  81,  95 

Hume,  276,  325 

Hungary,  Rising  of,  105,  107 


Ibsen,  377 


Iffland,  380 

Impressionism,  Effect  on  Ger- 
man Music,  398-402 

Independence,  German  War  of, 
69,  77,  78,  89,  90,  100,  116,  129 

Independent  Syndicates,   53 

India,  43 

Italy,  73,  130,  144,  152,  242 

—  Rising  of,  105 

—  Renaissance  in,  424,  425 
Itzstein,  104 


Jacobi,  262,  268,  286 

Janssen,  249 

Jarcke,  229 

Jena,  Battle  of,  6,  81,  82,  87 

Jesuits,  The,  216,  228,  234,  236, 

245,  250,  280,  281 
Joseph  II.  of  Austria,  216,  223 
Junker,  The,  3,  4 

K 

Kant,  193,  217,  225,  231,  238, 
257,  268,  287,  314,  315,  325, 
329,  380,  387 

—  Religion  of  Idealism,  283-286 

Keller,  Gottfried,  396 

Kiel,  264 

Kinkel,   Gottfried,    104 

Kleist,  395 

Kliefoth,  294 

Klinger,  405 

Klinkowstrom,  229 

Koniggratz,  Battle  of,  130 

Kotzebue,   380 

Kraus,  Franz  Xaver  of  Friburg, 
250 

Kreisler,  409 

Kulturkampf,  The,  243,  245 


Laas,  325 

Lafontaine,  380 

Lamettrie,  316 

Lamprecht,  60,  397,  402,  403 

Lange,  F.  Albert,  325 

Lasker,  187 

Lassalle,  Ferdinand,  51,  187,  204 

Lavater,  262 

Leibl,  Wilhelm,  396 

Leo  XIII.,  Pope,  245 

Leopardi,  331 

Lessing,  267,  268,  271,  282,  353 


436 


INDEX 


Levy,  Dr.  Oscar,  Translation  of 
The  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  343 

Liberalism,  Growth  of  in  Ger- 
many, 89-92,  103,  104 

—  Conflict  with  Government,  90, 
91,  104 

—  Attitude  to  France,  100,  102- 
104 

German  Revolution,  101 

—  Aims  of,  105-113 

—  Leaders  of,  111,  112 

—  Foundation  of  Liberal  Party, 
175 

—  Policy,  176-179 
Lieber,  Dr.,  246 
Liebermann,  403 
Liebmann,  Otto,  325 
Liebnitz,    280 
Lipps,  324 

Lips,  Professor,  88 

List,  8,  122,  187 

Liszt,  399,  409 

London  Convention,   101 

Lotze,  286,  324 

Louis  XIV.,  134 

Lowe,  Carl,  410 

Lucretius,  315 

Ludwig  I.,  King,  105 

Luther,  Martin,  254,  255,  259, 

260,  261,  266,  269,  271,  291, 

292,  293,  413 
Luxembourg,  135,  150 


M 
Mach,  E.,  324,  326 
Macpherson,  352 
Mahler,  409 
Main,  130 
Mainlsender,  331 
Mainz  Gazette,  69 
Makart,  395 
Manchester  School,  201 
Marpingen,  233 
Marx,  Karl,  51,   103,   170,  203, 

314,  315,  332 
Mathy,  Karl,  104 
Maximilian  II.,  King,  105 
Mecklenburg,  294 
—  Duke  of,  155 
Mecklenburg-Schwerin,     Prince 

Adolphus  of,  229 
Meissner,  104 
Melanchthon,  292 
Mesopotamia,  153 


Metternich  :  his  policy  towards 
Germany,  72,  73,  75,  76,  105 
Milde,  Bishop,  238 
Milhaud,  173 
Moleschott,  314,  318,  320 
Moller,  229 
Morgen  or  Joch,  32 
Morocco,  163 
Most,  171 
Mozart,  402 
Miiller,  Adam,  229 
Munich,  21,  105,  239,  418 
Munster,  235 

N 

Nagler,  9 

Naples,  Kings  of,  73 

Napoleon  I.,  68,  69,  89,  235,  236 

Napoleon  III.,  130 

Nassau,  130 

Nasse,  201 

Naumann,  183,  208 

Neander,  263 

Nebenius,  187 

Nicolai,  380 

Nietzsche,    60,    232,    282,    327, 

328,  369,  372,  377,  403,  404, 

405,  406,  430 

—  Pamphlet  against  the  "  Philis- 
tine of  Culture,"  321,  322 

—  His  philosophy,  332-347 

—  Quotation  from  Will  to  Power, 
334 

Antichrist,  341 

The  Twilight  of  the  Idols, 

343 
Zarathustra,    345,    368, 

370,  387 

—  Thoughts  out  of  Season,  368 

—  Richard  Wagner  in  Bay- 
reuth,  412,  413 

Nobiling,  204 

Norddeutscher  Lloyd,  Organisa- 
tion and  operations  of,  153 

Novalis,  218,  226,  227,  228, 
232,  262,  359,  360 

—  Ofterdingen,  385 

—  Hymns  to  the  Night,  387 
Nuremburg,  10,  21,  390 

O 

Oberlin,  262 
Occam,  253 
Olmutz,  Battle  of,  124 


INDEX 


437 


Ossian,  352 

Ottoman  Empire,  The,  74 

Ottos  and  Hohenstaufen,  390 

Fall  of  Empire,  69 

—  Empire  of,  88 
Overbeck,  229,  391,  395 


Pacca,  Cardinal,  223 

Palatinate,  The,  24 

Papal  Infallibility,  Proclama- 
tion of,  241 

Pariset,  298,  301 

Pascal,   335 

Pastor,  Willy,  249 

Paul,  Saint,  274,  277 

Paulsen,  194,  195,  198,  199, 
252,  324 

Peasantry,  German,  Develop- 
ment of,  18-20 

—  Emancipation,  effect  on,  36- 
41 

Pemba,  156 

Persian  Gulf,  153 

Pestalozzi,  193,  263 

Pfeffel,  262 

Pic  de  la  Mirandole,  275 

Piloty,  395 

Pius  VI.,  Pope,  216,  217 

—  VII.,  Pope,  217,  236 

—  IX.,  Pope,  234 
Platner,  229 
Plato,  225,  328 
Poland,  249 
Poles,  The,  139 
Pomerania,  394 

Posen,  Archbishop  of,  240 
Prague,  Treaty  of,  139 
Protestantism,   contrasted  with 

Catholicism,     252-256,     268, 

269,  298,  299 

—  Lutheran  Influence  on,  269 

—  Attitude  to  Reason  and 
Science,  256-258,  279-280, 
283 

—  Pietism,  Influence  of,  260-268 

—  Rationalism  in,  264,  272— 
274,  281 

—  Relation  to  Christianity,  277- 
279,  287 

—  Kant's  Philosophy  of  Ideal- 
ism in,  283-286 

—  Philosophy  in  connection 
with,  286-290 


Protestantism,    Orthodoxy    in, 
291-294 

—  Relations     with     the    State, 
294-297,  300-310 

—  Founding  of   the   Protestant 
Church,  300 

—  Relation  towards  the  masses, 
307,  310 

Prussia,    70,    74,    75,    121,   240, 
242,  294 

—  Annihilation  of,  6 

—  State  of  in  1816,  8 

—  Growth  of  population,  45 

—  Contrasted  with  Austria,  76, 
77 

—  Power,  Growth  of,   77,   121- 
131,  143,  197 

—  Policy  of,  77-79,  81-84 

—  Attitude  of  German  Princes 
towards,  84,  85 

towards  monarchy,  92-96 

—  Landtag,  proposals,  92-96 

—  Conquest   of   Germany,    100, 
128-131,   138,   139 

—  Modern  education  in,  363 

R 

Racine,  373,  412 

Radical    Party,    Formation    of, 

104 
Radwitz,  General  von,  123 
Realism,  Growth  of,  393 

—  Affinity     with     Democracy, 
394,  395,  396 

—  Effects  upon  Art,  395,  396 
Rehmke,  324,  325 
Reichensberger,  187 
Reichstag,    52,    71,    131,     142, 

159,   162,   172,   177-179,  202, 

247 
Reimarus,  271 
Reinkens,  239 
Rhein  Mercury,  88 
Rhine,  The,  102 

—  Valley  of,  28,  185,  242 
Riehl,  Alois,  325 
Robespierre,  219 
Rodbertus,  204 

Rome,  Republic  proclaimed,  217 
Roman  Empire,  The  Holy,  68, 

242,  390,  420 
Romanticism,      Influence       on 

Catholicism,  224-231 

—  Conflict  with  Intellectualism, 
380,  381 


438 


INDEX 


Romanticism,  Attitude    to   Re- 
ligion, 381 
State,  382 

—  Exponents  of  and  their  teach- 
ings, 383-392 

—  Transition  into  Realism,  392 
Ronge,  239 

Roon,  129 

Rosegger,  Gottsucher,  346 

Rothe,  251 

Roumania,  43 

Rousseau,  218 

Ruge,  Arnold,  103,  314 

Rumohr,  229 

Russia,  43,  134,  142,  143,  217 

—  Baltic  Provinces  of,  66,  150 
Russo-Turkish  War,  The,  153 
Riistow-Pacha,  153 

S 

Sadowa,  Battle  of,  132,  133,  143, 

177,   197,  369 
Sailer,  237 
St.  Louis,  418 

Salzburg,  Archbishop  of,  217 
Savigny,  117,  180,  382 
Scandinavian  countries,  9 
Schadows,  The,  229 
Scharnhorst,  88,  90 
Schell  of  Wurzburg,  250 
Schelling,  232,  286,  357,  411 
Schenk,  Eduard  von,  229 
Schiller,    286,     354,     357,     380, 

409 

—  The  Bride  of  Messina,  410, 
411 

—  William  Tell,  411 

Schlegel,  A.  W.,  389 

Schlegel,  Friedrich :  his  teach- 
ings, 226,  227,  228,  229,  232, 
358,  367,  383,  384,  388,  390 

Lucinde,  385 

and  Hellenism,  387 

On     the      Language     and 

Wisdom  of  the  Indians,  389 
Schlegel,  Wilhelm,  388 

Quotation  from,  389 

Schleiermacher,   263,   269,   270, 

277,  278,  286,  293,  294,  299, 

305,  411 

—  Discourses  on  Religion,  256, 
257,  258,  288 

Schleswig,  28,  139 
Schmoller,  201 


Schoen,  95,  187 
Schoenberg,  201 
Schopenhauer,      331-333,     342, 
358,  361 

—  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea, 
329,  330 

—  Parerga    and    Paralipomena, 
331 

Schorlemer,  von,  246 
Schubert,  385,  399,  410 
Schubert- Soldern,  von,  325 
Schulte,  239 
Schulze,  33 
Schumann,  410 
Schuppe,  325 
Schwarzenberg,  125 
Schwind,  391 
Scotus,  Duns,  253 
Sedan,  197,  369 
Shakespeare,  361,  389 
Sienna,  217 
Silesia,  21,  185,  239 
Slavonia,  149 
Smith,  Adam,  5,  201 
Socialism,    Growth    of    Socialist 

party,   51-55,   169,    170,   171, 

173 

—  Ideals,  170-172,  201 

—  Policy      and      reasons      for 
failure,  174,  175 

—  Attitude    of    State    towards, 
202,  204,  207-210 

of  Bismarck  to,  204-209 

to  culture  and    Art,   375, 

376,  377,  378,  425 
Solger,  411 
Sombart,  49 

—  Quotation  from,  187,  188 
Sophocles,  361,  373,  412 
South  America,  24 

German  population  in,  151, 

152 
German     exploitation    of, 

153,  154 
Spahn  of  Strasburg,  250 
Spain,  73,  154 

Spencer,  Herbert,  262,  400,  407 
Spiegel,   Count,    Archbishop   of 

Cologne,  238 
Spinoza,  225,  270,  280 
Spittler,  218 
Stahl,   180 
Staupitz,   Vicar- General   of   the 

Order     of     Saint     Augustine, 

259,  260 


INDEX 


439 


Stein,  Baron  von,  6,  71,  79,  88, 
116,  187 

Reforms  of,  82,  83 

Steinle,  391 

Stettin,  21 

Stilling,  Jung,  262 

Stocker,   183 

Stolberg,  Count  Friedrich  Leo- 
pold of,  235 

Strauss,  D.  F.,  103,  271,  273, 
274,  318 

—  The  Old  and  the  New  Faith, 
320,  321 

Strauss,  Richard,  399,  403,  409 

—  Salome,  402 
Struve,  104,  107 
Stuck,  403 

Stumm,  Baron  von,  205 
Stuttgart,  21 

—  Rump  f par  lament  of,  106 
Styria,  394 

Sudermann,  Johannes,  346 
Sulzer,  410 

Swabia,  24,  264,  394 
Switzerland,  66,  150,  262,  394 


Tacitus,  79 

Taubert,  331 

Thaer,  9,  187 

Theocritus,  373 

Thiers,  133 

Third  Estate,   Enfranchisement 

of,  7 
Tholuck,  263 
Thomas,  Saint,  System  of,  252, 

253 
Three  Emperors,  Treaty  of,  143 
Tieck,  227,  228,  232,  386,  390, 

408 
—  Genevieve,  385 
Toleration,  Edict  of,  217 
Tolstoi,  377 
Tomasius,  264 
Trades  Unionism,   Organisation 

and  growth  of,  52-55,  60 
Treitschke,  90,  187 
Treves,  233 

Triple  Alliance,  143,  144,  160 
Troeltsch,  Quotations  from,  267, 

310 
Tscheck,    attempted    assassina- 
tion of  Frederick  William  IV., 

104 


Tubingen,  264,  273 
Turkey,    Exploitation    by    Ger- 
many, 153,  163 

U 

United  States,  43,  67,  154,  260, 

265,   303,  416 

Commercial  position  of,  1 7 

German  population  of ,  151, 

152 
Uruguay,  43 


Valencia,  217 
Veit,  Ph.,  391 
Veits,  The,  229 
Venetianer,  331 
Venice,  217 
Versailles,  137 
Vienna,  235,  418 

—  Treaties  of,  8,  68 

—  Congress  of,  70,  71,  72,  75, 
78,  85,  89,  238,  240 

—  Outbreak  of  Revolution  in, 
105,  107 

Vilmar,  294 
Vischer,  Peter,  390 
Vogt,  Karl,  314,  315,  320 
Voltaire,  280 
Von  der  Golz,  153 

W 

Wackenrode,  386 

—  Outpourings  of  an  Art-Lovina 
Monk,  385 

Wackenroder,  227,  228,  232,  390 

Wagener,  204 

Wagner,  Richard,  183,  232, 
287,  331,  342,  360,  361,  366, 
398,  399,  402,  403,  405,  410, 
411,  412,  413,  414 

Parsifal,  332,  400 

Lohengrin,  374,  375 

Meistersinger,  401 

The  Flying  Dutchman,  401 

Tristan,  332,  401 

—  Rudolf,   320 
Wartburg  Festival,  91 
Weber,  Carl  Maria,  249,  385,  399 
Weber,  Ernst  Heinrich,  324 
Weimar,  347 

Weisse,  Christian  Hermann,  325 
Welcker,  104 


440 


INDEX 


Werner,  Zacharias,  229 
Werneuchen,  Vos  von,  380 

—  Schmidt  von,  380 
Wessenberg,  Vicar-General  Igna- 
tius Henry  of,  235,  237,  238 

Westphalia,  21,  28 

—  Peace  of,  251 
Wichern,  201 
Wieland,  410 
Wildberger,  171 

William  I.,  Emperor,   130,   131, 
137,  204 

—  Accession  to  power,  127 

—  Reorganisation  of  Army,  129, 
William  II.,  207,  208,  248,  249, 

308 

—  Naval  policy,  163 
Willmann,  249 
Winckelmann,  353,  388 
Windhorst,  187 


Wcellner,  263 

Wolf,  Quotation  from,  280 
Wolff,  Frederick  Augustus,  353, 
354 

—  Hugo,  410 
Wundt,  286,  324 
Wurtemberg,  96,  137,  262 
Wiirzburg,  235 

—  Conclave  of  Bishops,  241 


Zanzibar,  156 
Zeller,  Eduard,  325 
Zentralverband      Deutscher     In- 

dustr  telle,   178 
Zirkel,  Bishop,  235 
Zollverein,  Establishment  of,  9, 

122 
—  Extension  of,  129,  131 


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